Endurance
by thegravityhammer
Summary: A teen comes across a farmhouse after running from the monstrosities that have corrupted Nowhere, and maybe the rest of the world. He discovers that the farmhouse is not abandoned, but inhabited by a dog, and it just might be the beginning to a real plan.
1. Chapter 1

_**Stomp..Stomp..Stomp**_

Essential tasks like food collecting had become an endurance of hell since the virus took over the lands two years ago. With no hints of sentient life remaining, John believed he was completely alone in the town of Nowhere. A few bodies of forgotten survivors were scattered about the town with their remains ripped apart by the corrupted, but he hadn't seen any survivors after his guide was lost. Only those who were not coordinated, calm, or collected roamed the streets. Those things weren't conscious.

He sprinted through the cactus thrived desert, desperate to get away from those monstrosities. The burning sensation in his lungs was growing with every leg he swung. How much further must he run? He usually found a viable structure before running for such a long distance. He cursed himself for visiting the house that obviously looked sketch to him, and now he was running for his life- again. The thought of panic was hinting its way in his mind. What if he simply couldn't run any more until those things caught hum? but he was reminded that there was always a solution. There had to be. But what solution would arise if he didn't find a structure before he just couldn't run anymore? There were numerous ' _things_ ' on his tail, like they were closing in fast.

What's that?

A blip on the horizon. He managed to run even faster to get to it.

It was a farmhouse. Then it was a farmhouse and a turning windmill. He looked behind himself to see the creatures snarling at him as a pack of wild beasts would. The farmhouse appeared to be deserted, he could only hope its interior was savage free. He jumped a dilapidated wooden fence which marked the property line and made a beeline for the front door. Bracing his shoulder, he slammed right through it. The force nearly broke it off the hinges. A heavy piece of furniture caught his eye immediately, and he used all his strength to slide it across the floor. Just seconds after placing it in front of the door, it received quite a beating from the corrupted.

John stepped back as quietly as possible, and swiftly looked for some blankets to shove between the wall and the curtain racks to block the windows. He had done this before, for if they can't see their prey the corrupted venture off in search for a new source of food. After he blocked all the windows, he sat on the floor. The kid lured a good sized group to the farmhouse, he hoped they would not linger about for long. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to slow his breathing, but he was panting so heavily.

' _Recycling is key. Hold the fear and embrace the benefits and lessons_ '

His brain patterns always nestled in gule patterns to this thought. The thought of his guardian, his guide. The one that mattered, the one that showed him the third eye. John learned his life from him, and he love him more than anything.

A sudden noise caused him to open his eyes and turn around. He gasped to himself. A dog was standing there, glaring at him. He stood up and backed away from it. Eyes that weren't red was an unthinkable site for him. The dog walked toward him, John took more steps back.

"Relax," The dog spoke. "I'm not going to cause harm."

He started to walk toward the door that was just blocked. "How many are here?" The dog asked as he turned back around.

"...a.. a few..." John replied. He hasn't spoken to anybody but himself in a long time. He had the idea that he was hallucinating, perhaps he needed to find some water.. The dog walked toward him once more.

"Come. It's more safe upstairs."

John was led to an old, dusty attic. It consisted of a few boxes and a bed put off to the corner. The dog had quite a collection of food and supplies against the wall near the bed. He looked over at a desk that had a computer sitting on it, he was amazed to see the screen on.

"Does that thing work?" He asked as he pointed to it.

"yes, I work." A voice said.

It came directly from computer . John looked at the dog for a few seconds before he looked back at the machine.

"Do you make contact with others?" John asked.

"I've made some spotty connections in the past few months, but nothing close enough." John observed the machine carefully.

"But servers were lost within days after the Outbreak, how-"

"I'm an Artificial intelligence construct, I don't require servers."

John gazed toward the window.

"-I have some food. Take some." The dog interrupted as he gestured toward the supplies. John picked up a can of beans, and held it up for approval. He got an awkward stare for a few seconds before a can opener was tossed to him. As he started to open the can of food, he started to think of questions. The dog beat him to the punch.

"Why did you come here?" He asked the kid.

John continued to pry at the can as he answered with hesitation. "Well..I was just on a supply run. I usually go house to house, scavenging whatever I can find. Then…" He didn't really know how to put together what he wanted to say. "I was ambushed by a wave, too many to count. I was forced to run, and I assumed this house was empty…. All the others were.."

The can opened with a pop. The dog tossed a spoon at him.

He ate the food with appreciation. "H-how did you get this stuff?" John asked as he pondered over the items. "I do the same thing you do." He took a seat on the floor across from him. "Have you…...Have seen any survivors?" The dog asked. John swallowed his food while he looked at him.

"No."

"Oh dear." The computer said.

The dog looked up at it for a few seconds before looking back at John. "I haven't seen a person in…..quite some time. That being said, you are welcome to stay here." He extended a paw out. "My name's Courage." John put the can down and accepted his gesture. "John" He said as he gave a thankful look and took his hand. He found it hard to believe. Over a year he had been alone, forever stuck in the cycle of grieving. But here was another...person.

"Hey, dog. You might want to see this." The computer notified them, causing the two to rise. Courage walked over and looked at the screen. What appeared to be a few of those things were standing a few feet from the door. "What is this?" John asked as he appeared behind the dog. "That's the front door. I have few cameras around."

The creatures just stood still on the blue screen, all staring the door down. They seemed almost conscious of waiting for someone to come out eventually.

"They know that we have to go out there eventually…" Courage started to pace back and forth. "I don't like this. They are just going to wait for us.." He was off railed. "They'll get hungry and leave in search of food.." John said as he watched him pace. He walked over to the bed and sat in it. "You mind if I sleep?" He asked as he already started to lie down. The dog looked at him for a brief moment in fear, but calmed himself.

"No." He replied as he walked over to get another look at the computer screen.

Courage grabbed a pair of headphones and sat at the computer's desk. He plugged them into the machine and began to type.

'I'm worried, they've never done this before.'

"Try to relax, there's no way they could get in."

Courage didn't relax. He wanted them to leave, and he won't be able to relax until they do. He took the headphones off and quietly walked out the attic door. Deciding he wanted to get a closer look at them, he slowly shut the door. As he walked down the hall and down the stairs, he kept his glare trained on the front door. The room's air was sound free. Not even a grunt could be heard from the other side of the door. He looked up at the blanket that covered a window, raising an eyebrow. Pulling at the side to get a peek at the monstrosities, he gasped. There they stood, just staring down the door. Luckily, none of them noticed the movement in the window. He gulped as he retreated from the viewing hole. He already knew they had to be dealt with, as food was running deplenished. He feared to even think about engaging those ' _things'_. Then he thought of his new friend. The next day, he would convince that kid to help him.


	2. Chapter 2: Indefinnite worry

Courage decided to let John sleep as he tried to devise an idea in his head. He quietly paced around the attic as he thought, growing more and more flustered with every step. He muttered to himself occasionally in hopes of clarifying his ideas, but they would quickly crumble apart as he thought of ways they would fail. There were just too many of those things out there…. They were bound to quickly incapacitate the dog with any feeble attempt to get rid of them. He turned his attention toward the attic's window and walked over to it, hoping that maybe those things had left the area. He opened it and leaned on the trim to get a good view below. His hope was swiftly crushed when he heard several nasty growls penetrate his ear drums.

"damn…" He said to himself as he looked at the sleeping John.

The dog was stumped. The situation at hand had the insight of a hopeless endeavor, Courage was certainly quick to buckle under its weight. Such a situation was unique to him when compared to his past troubles, as there was always a clear answer to him. He's never found himself unable to solve a problematic situation until this experience. It left him feeling outdated from himself. The awareness of his food supply plowed over him and kept him pinned down in agonizing fear and desperation. He was all too aware that he didn't have all the time in the world to just sit and accept the situation. As he eyed John while he thought, Courage came to an unfavorable consensus that perhaps he'd know what to do. Courage didn't know anything about him, but to him it seemed that John yielded the true expression of Courage, a trait the dog himself believed was falsely given. As the dog eyed him with curiosity, he started to wonder about his past. His actions, his will to survive- what has John endured?

As the sun rose far above the barren horizon, Courage found himself staring indefinitely at the changing sky. After several hours of dreading, he had decided that he'd talk to him about it: John would have to consider helping if he wanted to eat, right? Courage certainly hoped so. He left the windowsill and tried to make himself comfortable on the floor and get some sleep.. But no….His thoughts kept him wide, wide awake. All he knew was the time slipping away.. He couldn't even close his eyes without becoming unbearably uncomfortable. In addition to his anxiety, he began to fathom the idea of being around another conscious being. Two years of nothing: No news; No contact. None from the face of the earth have seen him in two years. But after such a long time of being forgotten and left behind, a human rises in his setting. The dog was organizing his limited supplies when he heard quite a bit of noise downstairs. He gasped that moment, and quickly looked for a defense mechanism. He'd never got close to one of those ' _things_ ' before, and it appeared that that moment had finally come. As he yielded a piece of wood, the dog tip-toed downstairs to confront the suspicion. Once he was halfway down the steps, what lay before him caused him to to gulp. A boy-like figure was sitting on the floor with his back turned to the dog. He dared to move toward it with caution, keeping the piece of wood at the ready. As he got closer, he noticed the windows were strategically blocked by blankets, and the front door was properly bracketed with a heavy piece of furniture. Upon being even closer to the figure, Courage realized that it was no monster at all. Still having his suspicion, Courage slowly creeped up to him. He was terrified beyond his outline, but he had his speculation over the mysterious figure that practically smashed his way into his safe haven. He was no longer afraid of it being a monster, but was it friendly? He wanted to get closer to confirm that it was indeed a threat before he did anything violent. Once the figure turned and looked at Courage with the windows that lacked corruption, he found himself certain of one thing: He was conscious.

After quite a bit, Courage got up. He had decided that there was no use in trying to sleep, so he consulted the computer on the desk:

"Oh, hello. Would you like a status update?" It asked in a calm voice.

-'sure.'

"I've received new 'S.O.S' distress beacons. Unlike before, these are shockingly close to your location. I've given out feedback to the servers I could, and I've been updating responses ever sense."

Courage curled his lips in almost disbelief.

'What should I do?' He typed, feeling rather anxious. He felt as if he was responsible for the situation. As if he had to take control and establish contact immediately.

"You can't do anything. These connections are not character-based. The only thing you can do is track a pin-point I've given you. Find the people who are calling out S.O.S."

-'how?'

"I have geographic locations of everything I receive. There are even some in Kansas."

Courage felt his heart thump as he heard the bed behind him. He temporary dismissed the computer as he turned toward it. John stirred under the sheets as he slowly sat up. A rested groan escaped from the sheets as he rose in the bed.

"Morning." John said as he slowly got out of the bed. He looked around rather awkwardly before meeting the glare of the dog.

"What?"


	3. Chapter 3: Reflection

Courage had the words but he couldn't find his voice as he watched John stir. As he sat up he had calmness. His glare, comprised of rather intimidating virtue, slightly frightened Courage as he shifted in his chair. The boy got out of the bed and looked at the dog, then looked elsewhere. His eyes focused intently on whatever he looked at, always aware of it. It was as if he was always planning; always waiting for something to happen. Courage watching him as he moved for the pile of supplies and grabbed one of the remaining food bars. Ripping the package open in one tug, he devoured the thing in seconds. As he chewed, he noticed he was being observed and in an attempt of avoidance, he grabbed another bar and approached the attic window to eat in solitude. Now Courage found his voice. "Hey, Put that back." He dared. John turned around and looked at him now. The dog approached and gestured toward the floor. "Look here," he pointed. "Supplies are running low." John looked down and saw a few nutrition bars and cans of food. It contained maybe a few days worth of food at best…..for one person. He bit his lip as he looked around for hints of other supplies. "Look," Courage proceeded to the window, John following close behind. Once he met him at the window, Courage opened it- "Down there." John moved past him and gazed downward. After a few seconds of analyzing the creatures, he retreated from the window with a straight face. "Right." He huffed out as he returned for another look. The dog watched as he turned his head to look at something else. "Tell me what you know about that barn." John commanded. The dog wondered why that mattered, but he didn't question him and started to think about it. "Well….it has an old tractor in it and some tools. Quite a bit of hay, too." He tried to think of what else was in the barn. "What about the exterior?" John added.

The exterior? Courage had never looked at it detail; he didn't have anything to offer.

"I-i don't know about the exterior." He replied as John looked back at him while he hummed to himself.

"I'm thinking we could use that barn as a trap." He muffled out as he interpreted the wooden structure. Courage puzzled over the idea; He tried to think how it could be used as a trap.

"How?"

"If..If that barn has a hole near the top, I could pull you out after they are all inside." John spoke more to himself than to Courage. The dog inturn didn't like what he had heard.

"What?"

"You're not going to like this idea, but it's easy. You get their attention and lure them into the barn and once they are all in," He looked past Courage and saw a rope in the pile- "I can pull you up."

Courage shook his head. "I-i don't know about that." He stammered as John moved past him. He gathered up the rope over his shoulder. "You can trust me." He then headed for the attic door and opened it. "W-wait! We need to think this through!" Courage chased after him before he could already start walking down the stairs. He blocked his path and looked up as John retaliated. "We're doing this. You're just going to have to trust me." John tried to push past him, but Courage only grit his teeth and denied him passage. "I'm not doing it." He had a hint of a growl in his voice, and narrowed his eyes to further the intimidation. John kneeled down so he was eye level with him. "Courage, you have to trust me. We can do it; you can do it." He put a hand on his shoulder, speaking with a voice enriched with confidence "It's time to act." Standing back, he bypassed the dog headed down the steps. Courage reluctantly followed.

Once downstairs, John stole a glance out one of the covered windows. There they were, just waitin'.

"Okay, so here's what I'm going to do. You're going to wait here while I go find, or make, a hole." He pushed the piece of furniture aside that blocked the door and was about to open it when Courage reached out a paw to stop him. What was this kid thinking!?

"How?"

"Easy. I'm going to grab some large rocks and throw them at the weak wooden panels. That should make a hole for us to hoist the rope through to pull you up." And with that, he wiped the door open and began to sprint! Severely nasty snarls escaped the mouths of the creatures as he zipped past them. Courage watched in terror as one closed in on John, but much to his surprise the kid bashed through it with the momentum of a bull. After gaining some distance from the monstrosities, he quickly scavenged a handful of rocks and headed for the barn. Courage saw him dash behind the barn with several of those ' _things_ ' on his tail.

"Oh no!" He stammered out as several agonizing seconds ticked by.

One _**thud**_...Two _**thuds**_...Three _**thuds**_ echoed throughout the horizon before he saw him once more.

"Make room, make room!"

John came flying around the corner in a straight on sprint toward Courage. Those things were within reach of him, and so was the door. Courage scooted back behind the door frame to make room, and John slammed it behind himself as soon as he cleared it. Exhaling heavily, he leaned against the door as the dog pushed the furniture back to where it was in front of the door. The door itself received its beating, and John took a knee along the orange wall.

"I-I made a hole, you should be able to fit through it." He gasped as he closed his eyes, sucking in lots of air. A few deep breaths were taken before he became quiet and guile. After just a moment he stood up, and gestured toward the stairs.

"Come on, let's go back upstairs until those _things_ calm down."

Once the pair was in the attic, Courage pondered over John's quick actions. That was an incredible sight for him to behold; he's never seen anything like that. When he was speculating asking John for help, he wasn't expecting a legend to arise! After two years of sitting up in this musty attic, he had never comprehended the idea of even getting close to those _things_ before. Fear and corruption kept such thoughts far away, and for two years he was under their total control. Where he stands now is next to a kid who apparently never felt this fear, he was an entity for the taken.

"John...That was amazing!" Courage ran up to him.

"It was done right." He replied with a stolid tone.

Taking a seat on the bed, John put his back against the brown wooden wall and exhaled a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes, straightening his back as he did so. ' _Recycling is key. Hold the fear and embrace the benefits and-'_

"What are you doing?" Courage questioned, pulling John from his start up.

"Excuse me?" He asked as he popped his eyes open.

"Are you going to sleep again?" Courage asked.

John inturn raised an eyebrow at such a question and lowered his gaze to his. "I'm reflecting on what I did, I always reflect. It helps me keep cool about situations and it helps me learn for next time." He tapped his temple as Courage clambered onto the bed and sat next to him, also placing his back on the wall. He looked up to John for a moment before turning toward the window. Unfortunately for him, he found himself unable to satisfy John's idea of reflection. Throughout his endurance he's never speculated over anything, he just wanted to push it all away. He wanted to forget the horrors he's seen and hide from them forever. The idea of reflection called for call backs to old thoughts, and he didn't want to dwell on them. He didn't see how reflecting can influence him in a positive way, he only could picture corrupting thoughts coming back to crush him.

"You don't reflect?" john asked, pulling Courage from the window.

"No."

John was silent for a moment before whispering- "How have you survived?"

A few hours had passed since John created the hole in the barn, and the pair were waiting for the excitement to die down. Courage had long since taken a seat at the computer while John continued with his 'reflection'. From what the computer had to offer, the locations where other survivors were was hopeful.

"From your location, it should only take a few days to reach the S.O.S beacon that is closest to this position. I'd have to guess this compound is secure." The computer emitted as Courage typed away. The ' _click click click_ ' from it agreed with John's thought patterns, it created levels for him to think on. It was very relaxing, so much so that he had goosebumps on his arm when he opened his eyes. Deciding that he has become calm, John got up and approached the computer.

"New haven"? He gawked at the machine.

Courage spun around the chair to face him.

"It's a holdout. Computer says it's only a few days away on foot."

John slightly squinted his eyes, knowing that a hold out was something to be wary of. Such a thing in the time of an apocalypse is an easy trigger for unknowing prey to wander into and never be seen again. John knew this all too well, as he and his guardian were easily led astray into a stronghold in the early stages of the corruption. The man and his group fit the part of friendly collectors, people who welcomed the common survivor. People who wanted to reclaim the mantle of humanity. He and his teacher were led into the delves of the compound with the sense of moral emitting from their takers, but they showed their true colors by lying...by stealing...by _erasing_.

"A holdout? Hmm, you're willing to put trust into it?" He asked as the dog looked back toward the computer.

"I trusted you, didn't I?"

John gazed at the brown wooden wall. "You had no choice, and I was a single person; alone. A compound is a heavily fortified…." He stopped thinking and looked out the window. The sun was getting low, and he knew the dog would need his vision for the daring task of trapping the corrupted.

"We can talk about this later, time is running low."

Courage gulped as he took his eyes off the keyboard.

As the pair stepped down the stairs, Courage was quickly dominated by his fear of those _things_. His mental clarity was completely shut down by the time he was at the base of the staircase, and John knew it. He knew the dog was experiencing the vibe of hell.

"Think of this as your gateway to reflection." He said with a sly smile while taking the rope in his palms. Courage eyed it while taking steps back. He simply couldn't do this!

"Courage, it's time." John spoke with authority, but it wasn't hostile or cruel or demanding. It sounded welcoming, but the cave in Courage's stomach kept him from applying the guile vibe that John wants of him. He flinched as the kid got close and tied the rope tightly around him, and he just stared at the orange wall next to the door.

"There's nothing I can say to make you fearless, so you're just going to have to trust me." John peered out the window and confirmed to himself that the creatures had lost their excitement. They were glaring duly toward the door, completely unaware of their close trepanning.

Courage took a shaky sigh as John slowly clenched his fist, returning from the window with a grim look.


	4. Chapter 4: Trust

John was ready, he always was after his teachings. But Courage wasn't. Shaking like a leaf, he clearly looked unprepared for the endeavor. His eyes were fixed in a distant stare, showing him to be stuck in his head. Anyone who stared that long had a deep fear and uncertainty. Mental clarity was vital for the upcoming task, John had to clear the dog's head before he got him killed.

"Courage, just take a deep breath. Take a deep breath; relax."

John deeply filled his lungs for example.

Reflection. Courage knew what John wanted of him. He too took a deep breath, his stomach feeling heavy and crushed as he did so. He tried again, this time taking in a heavier cloud of air. The air filled his lungs for a brief moment before he exhaled to be met with stars in his vision. Ahhhh. His brain felt numb for a moment and it did indeed calm him down. ' _Just do as he says, he knows what he's doing_.' He coaxed. He was facing what he'd call one of the most trying times of his life. He had risked his life for his past owners, but he had reason and focus at such times to survive and pull it off. But he didn't have a reason to fight anymore, a reason behind his daring actions. He was risking his life only for himself this time.

"Okay, what do we do?" Courage asked as he got close, accepting that shit was about to get real.

John gave the door a stolid look before he looked at Courage, knowing that he was truly testing his own limits. This dog's life was in his hands, and although he looked confident on the outside, he had doubt somewhere in his head. The thought of failing was quick to be pushed aside, as he deemed it as a toxic idea that only got in his way. He shook his head.

"When I open the door, run for the barn. Don't look at those things, just focus on the barn. Once inside, look up on the wall furthest from the house- you will see a hole. Throw this," He grabbed at the knot in the rope. "In the hole. I will then pull you up."

John palmed the door knob.

"I'll be right behind you, now go!"

He wiped the door open and Courage launched as hard as he could.

' _Focus on the barn, focus on the barn!_ '

He saw a blur in the corner of his eye, a dash too. But he didn't look. He kept his eyes sharp on the barn's doors as he heard heavy footsteps behind himself crunching the sand forcefully."I'm right behind you!"

He made a beeline across the property as his mind spiraled like liquid in a funnel. Fear was beyond his ability to comprehend now, and it left him dull. The feeling in his fast legs went numb as he really got into the situation at hand. He almost wanted to catch a glance behind himself to address the disturbing noises, but John's voice in his head kept him from doing it.

' _Just focus on the barn_.'

John bypassed him in root to the other side of the structure. "Throw it and I'll pull you up!" he shouted as he disappeared behind it. Courage ran under the door frame of the barn as he already started to look up. Before he even saw what he was throwing at, he tossed the rope knot toward the hole. To him the rope flew in slow motion, as it was his end if it didn't make it.

He made his mark.

But the rope didn't become taunt, it just dangled loosely as Courage was backed up against the wall. Gulping, he held his breath as he just stared at the rope, just waiting. It dangled in shame. He rapidly pulled at it as the creatures were within swinging range for their nasty claws. This was it! John was going to let him die just as he let his Muriel die. He closed his eyes and waited for the first bites to come, unable to feel his own trembling anymore. The two years of isolation had come to an end, this is what it all led up to. Two years of waiting, waiting for something, anything to happen. He always knew life ended when Muriel ended, but he wanted to stick it out day after day. Maybe he had some hope, or maybe he was just too scared to end it. He let a tear roll down his muzzle as the daunting creatures were within striking range.

"Eh!"

The rope harshly jerked Courage to the side. He looked up at the rope and saw it become taunt, so he leaped off the ground as one of the creatures boosted for him. It mist him by just inches as he swiftly planted his feet on the wall, trying to climb up as fast as he could. He was just out of reach of all the bony, rotting hands reaching for him. He climbed up further before he looked down, looking into their red eyes. The burning red eyes, seething hatred that disallowed him to reflect them for more than a moment. He just couldn't do it, they were intimidating beyond anything he'd seen in his past life.

He reached for the hole and clambered over it, and he gazed down to see John looking up to him.

"I'll catch you!" John shouted, but Courage landed next to him planting one paw on the ground. He quickly wiped at his face as he rose.

"Good work, Courage! Now help me lock em' in!"

The pair sprinted for the barn doors and met at the lock, and Courage slid the mechanism into place.

"Done."

Courage slowly regained his normal function, and throughout the recovery he didn't know what to feel. He came too close to death, too close to remain consistent. He felt cold and shivery, unable to keep his eyes moving. John took notice of his stares but didn't say anything. It was time to go.

"Dog, pack all the remaining food." he commanded.

Courage nodded and slung a backpack on his back. He grabbed a map he had printed from the Computer and handed it to John, looking at the floor as he did. John gawked at the thing.

"So this is where you want to go?" He scratched his head.

Courage shook his head.

The boy narrowed his eyes and put the map in his pants, wondering if he will go there with him.

"Let's focus on food first, then we can decide where to go." His dismissive tone slightly annoyed Courage. John began to walk down the stairs, knowing that they will not be returning to the house. He heard Courage say 'goodbye' before he followed.

The sky gave way to the purple of night, pushing the late orange over the horizon. The critters of night erupted sounds from the prairie grass, signifying it had become their turf. Swallows dashed about over their heads, creating vague glimpses of movement above them. The tall grass was influenced by the brisk wind, brushing against the dogs numb legs as they walked off the farm. John took in a refreshing, deep breath. Ahhh. It was decided to head straight for the compound beacon, a whomping three day journey. They both figured a house would be eminent on their way, so there was no need to stray off track in search of one. Courage still felt numb, unable to feel the grass and sand between his paws. His survival today was a punishment. He felt the pointlessness of it; it didn't matter. Near death experience showed what was left of him, a hollowed out creature. His existence held no purpose after she died, it was pointless. He never converged on a plan after his owner died, he didn't have a reason to. He just sat and accepted what remained in the attic, dwelling time itself.

"Chin up, dog. You may be shaken up now but you'll be ready for next time." John said, pulling Courage away from himself. The dog grumbled weakly and kept pace with him. He sighed with a heavy chest, allowing himself to fall behind just a bit. But he was never three steps behind John. He liked being led for once, it relieved the feeling of responsible.

The blades of grass were making him itchy as they walked, eventually causing him to stop so he could scratch himself. John stopped walking and waited, not having a care in the world. He was looking at the horizon, with the low orange glow of early dusk painted on his face. He turned around.

"Looks like we are sleeping out here tonight." He said as he placed a foot atop a rock. There was a treeline not too far away, marking a border between the farm field properties.

Let's head over to there." he pointed, and Courage started to walk with him toward it. John ordered him to find some dry sticks for a fire, and he himself created a little pit with some rocks. He reached into his pants and extracted a lighter, one he scavenged at a house along with some smokes. He didn't feel like having a drag today. Setting the lighter next to the pit, he sat down and closed his eyes. That dog was a testament for him, and today was his first test. He held himself together to ensure another's survival, a remarkable skill to have. John's teacher enforced the will to help people across the rope, ensuring they make it with yourself on to the other side of things. John smiled as Courage came trudging along with a bundle of twigs.

"Nice, set them here." John smiled in the low lighting of early evening. He made quick work of creating a stack with the twigs. He gathered some dry tall grass and made a starting bundle, placing it on top of the twigs. The lighter took a few strikes, but it ignited and he set the grass on fire. Both sat in silence as the fire spread to the other dried out scraps of tree. The world seems to get darker when one sits near a fire, allowing the mind to play games with you. You think you hear things, things on the prowl. The fire cracks and your heart jumps, wondering what stepped on a stick. The anticipation can haunt, so it's best to deem anything unknown as absent. That's what Tim told John on their first trip.

The sun had set, and the horizon was illuminated by a magnificent moon, giving cacti shadows for miles. The constellations of June dominated the cloudless dark sky, scattering it with sparkles inviting their interpretation.


	5. Chapter 5: Life still matters

The fire hissed and cracked in the night, causing Courage's imagination to run rampant. He conjured creatures lurking about in the darkness, waiting to strike. His fear of the dark always had him under control, but what was left of the world only increased his paranoia. The timid animal trembled with his hair standing tall, and John laughed at him.

"There's nothing out there." He said with a calm chuckle, arms crossed sitting in the moonlit grass. Courage sighed and looked back into the fire, embracing its comforting warmth with his hands. He looked up to see John guiding a straight face to the sky. The constellations were on full display as he looked up, too.

"Something always wants trouble out here." The dog murmured in a shaky voice.

John laughed again.

"That's what you think. You're just scared."

Courage grunted, remembering all the troubles in his past that forced him into the life of fear.

"Just think realistically when you're scared. Even if there was something out there, take it out when it tries you on for size." John folded his arms behind his head, stretching.

Courage sighed.

"Easy for you to say, you're much bigger than me." He argued, also folding his arms.

Both went silent for a while, letting the critters of night take the air. The blue lit leaves hissed as they danced in the wind, letting the stars flicker through them. Courage wondered what other survivors had endured. What did two years of civil deprivation do to them, to their egos and thoughts and personalities? Was boredom their only known feeling, too? Did they wake up to nothing but brown walls and a window looking toward a blank horizon, waiting for something to rise over it? Was everyday the same for them, too? Will they be the person they were before the gates of oblivion opened? Maybe they will be like John. He hoped so as he opened his backpack and fished out a snack bar.

"Two more left counting this one." He held one to throw at John.

"I'll save mine for tomorrow." He replied, and Courage put it back in the bag. He opened the snack and took a bite, dissatisfied with the stale texture as he stared into the flames. He felt a tear in his eye, but quickly wiped it away and looked into the dark treeline. He desperately wanted something else to think about, but there was nothing but himself on his mind. He was pointless. He had no reason to live, nobody did anymore. Even if the compound was safe, what would be the point of living there? The world is fucked, and there was never going to be an uprising for humanity to claim. It's ruined. He took another bite out of the stale snack.

John shifted and unfolded his arms, taking his glare from the sky. He had a calm expression with the flames painting red on his face, and he looked at the dog.

"How did _you_ live?" he asked, taking the dog with surprise.

He swallowed.

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean what did you have to do to survive? How did you avoid death when the world ended?" He asked, his interpreting eyes burning through Courage

The dog gazed down, in thought of his lonesome survival. Two years of the same thing day after day was how he survived. He didn't take any risks, he didn't want to strive for better. He just sat in his comfort zone of the attic and waited, waited for something, anything to happen. Maybe it was a good idea, look what brooke down his safe haven's door yesterday.

"I didn't avoid death, my family died." he harshly replied. He let another tear fall to the dirt. John crossed his arms again.

"How?" He dared to ask, quickly realizing that the question was too much.

"I'm sorry, you don't-"

"After the national alert, the farmer of the house boarded up the entire place. He thought a few weeks worth of food was enough for all of us, and he wanted to just stick it out until it 'blew over'. His wife, my owner, thought it was a good idea. I did not…."

He trailed off as a few more tears dripped down his check.

"I wanted to go someplace safe but I was trapped in the house. I wanted to take her somewhere safe, somewhere nothing could reach-"

He paused again as he looked up to the sky.

"After a few weeks, we heard nothing from the outside world. I wanted to see what the Computer had to say about it.

That was either the luckiest or unluckiest moment in my life."

"Just as I reached the top of the stairs, the door burst open and….."

He started to sob.

"They killed them both… With.. With guns. They just sprayed at them with automatic weapons! And...and….Ugh!"

He sobbed, he weeped uncontrollably. John remained expressionless as the dog sat their crying, unknowing of what to do. He instantly felt bad for making him tell his past, and he mentally punished himself for it.

Looking up at the sky again.

"I lost my family, too. My guardian looked after me until….." Hmm. "They killed my brother."

Courage palmed his face with his paws, embarrassed.

"I can't say I know how you feel, dog, but I can tell you this." He walked over and sat next to the trembling animal.

"We have each other now, and our families would want us to prevail." He managed a smile as a few tears dropped from his own eyes, and Courage looked into them from his wet paws.

"Our families are dead! There's nothing for us to prevail to….." he wiped his eyes.

"What's the point in living anymore, John?"

John was taken aback, he would never think _he_ would be the one to answer to a hopeless question. His brother was the one he'd cry to, the one who had all the answers. He cleared his throat, ready to take on the challenge and answer.

"Chance and hope is all we have left. If we give up and accept the end, then we would be denying any possibility for a different outcome. As long as we wake up to the rising sun, I know it could be the day something changes. That's the beauty in it, you don't know what's going to happen."


	6. Chapter 6: A forgoten field

Get up

Huh?

"Get up."

Courage felt his crusty eyes open to see a looming, dark figure over himself. He blinked repeatedly before sitting up, looking at the remains of last night's fire. It took him a moment to recall what he told John, the crying limited his memory. Sleepily sighing, he pressed his paws to the grass and stood. There was an early mist that dominated the landscape, clouding out the trees. He gazed over to see the early orange sun, painting the striding clouds above the horizon in the summer warmth.

"Morning." John mumbled as he approached Courage's backpack, unzipping the pouch. He grabbed the last remaining snack bar. The unwrapping of the bar sounded distant, a sound of relaxation. It was a new morning.

Not turning around to face the dog, John put a foot on a rock and looked toward the distant treeline adjacent to theirs.

"New heaven is that way…" John pointed, returning to the map in his hand. He took a bite out of the bar. Courage swept through the grass to join his side. The parallel crop dirt continued for miles, forgotten and unkempt. Weeds created an abundance of green patches throughout the landscape, plaguing the once rich soil. It was going to be a difficult walkthrough.

"We have to find a house today. As of now, we have no food." John said as he curled his lip.

Courage nodded to himself, ready to take on the long walk.

As the pair trudged through the thick sage, Courage felt uneasy and tense. The feeling was embarrassment, shame, and humiliation. He hated the idea of somebody seeing him mentally crumble apart. He felt the urge to apologize for forgiveness, as if it would relieve him of the burden. It took him several moments to build up the nerve to say it as they stepped through the thick brush.

"Sorry for last night." He suddenly shuddered out with a lump in his throat.

John slowly stopped and turned around, meeting the dog's weak eyes.

"You shouldn't be. Emotions are all we have left, I'm proud you're capable of crying anymore…" He trailed off. The people that killed his brother didn't cry. "You shouldn't feel bad, you've lost family and…..I cried, too. I don't give a damn." He put a hand on the dog's shoulder and stepped forward. Courage managed a smile as he followed after him.

As the sun rose, the beating heat was depleting the dog of energy fast. The lack of sweat glands put him in a panting state, and the thick brush invited swarms of bugs from all directions. He kept stumbling on thickets of roots and grass, but John was walking right on through it all. He was much too fast for Courage, who was falling behind. The kid took notice and slowed down, biting his lip. Although he was patient, he wanted to get out of the sage as soon as he can, but this dog was holding him back. As far as he could tell, they'd be at this for a good while. The treeline was just barely visible above the tall sage, but it didn't look far enough for dred, only annoyance. He was certain that there was a farm on the other side, resources waiting for the picking.

They walked, and crunched, and tripped. Well, only Courage tripped, as John was big enough to stomp through it all. At Least the kid was creating somewhat of a path for Courage, breaking down large branches and plants for him. It was an exhausting endeavor, constantly raising legs to step over fallen branches. John saw his quickly increasing exhaustion.

"Don't worry, the treeline isn't too far now!" He looked back. Courage was panting heavily and moving slowly enough to draw concern. John bit his lip again and stopped, the dog was now leaning on a plant, unwilling to walk. The kid was afraid Courage may have early heat stroke, they didn't drink any water today, afterall. He headed over to him and knelt down.

"Here, get on my back. You look like you're about to drop dead."

Courage weakly raised a paw to grab his shoulder, and John hoisted him up.

"Just hang on, I'm sure there's water right over the treeline!" John assured with confidence, but there was doubt in his mind. He kept on pushing through the weeds and shrubs, just focusing on the treeline up above it all.

Just as his throat was growing vacant of all moisture, John exited the thick shrubbery to be greeted by the trees.

"Good, we made it. How are you holding up?" John asked.

There wasn't an answer.

John reached back and set him on the grass, not allowing himself to get worked up just yet. He was passed out, dehydration was critical, now. He dragged Courage under a tree, shading him from the punishing sun rays. He had to leave him if he wanted to get past the treeline fast. He stroked his furry friends head a few times before rising, heading straight into the little patch of forest.

Just as he expected, a farm was emerging through the thick branches. A few more steps in and it resembled the appearance of Courage's farm, accompanied by a similar windmill. A waterpump caught his eye with a bucket right next to it, perfect. He stomped through just a few more bushes before he was clear of the forestry, stepping over dry, brown dirt. His mouth was completely dry, he wasn't sure if he'd make it without this farm. Now he just had to hope the water pump wasn't dried up.

The first few pulls from the lever were discouraging, as not even a drop would appear from the nozzle. He pulled at it again, nothing. Shit. A few more strenuous pulls later, clear water flowed into the bucket. YES! He took a few gulps before filling it again, looking at the structure before him. It looked deserted, no activity in the windows. The tall grass in front of the house looked undisturbed, no occupants here. The bucket filled up with a few more drips before he rose. He jogged back toward the treeline.

He was careful not to spill the precious water, the dog was going to need every last drop and then some. The roots in the forestry made this challenging, as he stumbled over almost anything alive in his way. He exited the forest with slash marks from sticks and leaves, his arms were stinging from the small cuts. He looked at the tree where he left courage to see him still lying there. It looked as if he didn't move while John was gone. He swiftly walked over and knelt down beside him, giving him a rough shake. Courage coughed and blinked, unable to see what was touching his dried lips. Whatever it was, it was cold and rejuvenating.

"It's all good, you got dehydrated and passed out. Don't move." He heard a muffled voice. It sounded so low and distant, his hearing was distorted. Oh dear. He blinked his eyes until he could see a silver blur in front of him. A bucket of water he had to assume, John got him some water… He tried to say 'thank you', but he couldn't speak. He slightly lifted his head, only to feel a massive headache radiating from his head. He saw the silver blur move away and felt his head pressed back down.

"Just rest for now, your body needs to recover." He then heard footsteps walking away from him.


	7. Chapter 7: The man who deprived chance

John moved for the farm while Courage rested in the sage. He stepped through the small forestry absorbing the smell of healthy growth in the vegetation. It was going to be a very luminous summer. The plants irritated his skin a little as he brushed against them, but he didn't mind all too much. The forest was always a pleasant little escape, it was a place where the world hadn't changed.

His fixed glare was on the faintly visible house through the thicket. Although it looked deserted, one could never be certain anymore. He's been surprised too many times now to not be considered lucky.

Upon exiting the treeline, the farmhouse took a more daunting appeal. It's dark windows didn't reveal anything that could be inside. Not an ideal place to search. It was an almost repelling sight, but he didn't care how scary it looked, it wasn't about to stop him from finding some food.

The tall grass crunched and snapped under his souls. He took in a deep breath with heavy anticipation in his chest. _Just deal with it_ , his brother would say. He placed a foot on the porch and a creek escaped through the wooden planks. He cringed at first but then suspected that it would be best if anything inside heard him early on. After waiting several seconds, nothing happened. He took more creaking steps and placed his palm on the doorknob. Locked. He sighed and peered into the adjacent window. Nothing could be seen through it.

He tapped on the window a few times. Nothing happened. Hmmm. Must be clear. Must be. He tapped again. - nothing.

So he took a few steps back and sprinted right toward the door, bracing his shoulder-

' _ **CRASH**_ '

Several shards of wood showered over him as he landed on the floor, kicking up dust everywhere.

He lied there for a little bit, moaning in pain. Rubbed his arm. That hurt.

He stood up. There was a horrible stench in the room, and he had to slightly squint his eyes to see a vague figure through the settling dust. He blinked several times to see it more clearly, and he wanted to gag. There was a chair accompanied by a very old, very smelly rotting corpse. It's head was obliterated and the wall behind it was painted with black brain matter and blood. He had the urge to vomit but he was committed to steel himself before he entered the house. He should have been ready for any surprise, hostile or disturbing. He straightened out his back and got closer, beaconed by the shotgun that lied in the man's lap. Several shells were scattered about the floor, 12 gauge. He collected them and placed each one in his pocket. He then knelt down and took the gun from the hands of the _quitter_.

He gave up and didn't see the potential of change. He only saw what was left, depriving himself even a chance of altar. Reclamation of humanity- It was coming. John knew it.

"You should have waited like the dog, you fool." John said to the blackened, rotting eyelids. He put the shotgun on his back and converged into the kitchen, not wasting anytime in that aroma of disgust. A few cabinet searchings later and he emerged from the house with a few cans of food.

John traversed back towards the treeline feeling accomplished. The cans should last the journey to New Haven. He stepped through the branches and sticks, enduring the thin cuts once more. The beating sun was flickering above through the trees bathing him in warmth. He stepped out of the thicket to see the dog leaning against the tree trunk, eyes open and noticing him.

"Well don't you look better?" John claimed, taking a seat next to him. "How's your head feel?"

"It hurts." Courage answered. His voice was strained.

John opened the backpack and put the cans in after showing Courage what he found. The dog eyed the shotgun carefully as the kid twirled it around with his hands. He asked if the house had any signs of recent dwellings. The kid shook his head. "The house was empty."

He took a look in the bucket, Courage didn't even drink all the water as he expected him to.

"Finish that, you need more." He commanded.

He pulled out the map as the dog drank, and it appeared to be rural territory for the whole trip to the New Haven compound. He considered this to be fortunate, as most of the corrupted were attracted to the cities. The farmlands were John's go to from the beginning but the others didn't have the same idea. They wanted to 'hold out', or wait for rescue in buildings and houses. They thought the security would prevent the corruption from growing before them. They didn't see that the only way to deal with it is to face it head on, before it grew and overcame it's prey. Hiding led them to death and only the stranglers survived because they knew change prospered. They knew that there was no way out of a corner.

A few hours had passed before Courage could see clearly. His head felt like it was being squeezed still, but he eventually built up the comfortability to stand up and walk again. John fetched him another bucket of water to ensure a full recovery from the dehydration, and the two carried on their way through the trees. As they passed the farmhouse Courage looked at the empty door frame, wondering what lies in the darkness of the house. It certainly looked like his former home, maybe it was reminiscent of Muriel. He caught up with John as he realized he stopped walking.

The horizon held a light blue that shaded into a darker color as the eye looked up. A few clouds littered the plain above few and far between, once again exposing the pair to the harsh sun. It seemed like every other step the dog took he had to ask John for one of the containers of water (Courage had several plastic bottles in his bag and they filled them up back at the farm). But after so many request the kid held the water from him, claiming that they needed to be more conservative.

Courage looked around as they shuffled through the grass. There were trees and power lines and houses afar off in the light horizon. They seemed to take on the very color of the air, blending in with it. He looked in the other direction to see towering cliffs that creeped up and down from the flat level of the earth. They formed a very large mountain.

John was holding the map as they walked, seeming to gaze at it every few seconds. He had a strained gleam in his eye and he kept looking at the distance with sudden worry.

"What?" Courage asked.

John stopped and knelt down beside him, allowing him to see the map, too. He pointed at a few darker regions of the print out.

"That's a big ass mountain. I can see it from here. It would take days to walk around it, and we could, but…." He trailed off.

"Or we could walk through. It has a cave system."

Courage gulped, knowing why he sounded afraid.

Nowhere's caves were notorious for holding some of the most vile of creatures in all the landscape.

"Going through it would save us days, and I don't think we have enough water to go around, dog."

Courage knew John was expecting him to beg for another option, but he didn't have anything to argue for. They wouldn't make it if they walked around.

"I think we should go through. This shotgun will protect us, I guarantee it."


	8. Chapter 8: Into the uncertainty

"I bet we can be at the base of it by sundown. Come on."

The grains of sand gave way to the wind and funneled endlessly into burrows. The burrows led recent prints that littered the plains aimlessly. Rocks lied in the sun rays with plants slithering out, pleased with the sunlight.

The walk was voiceless and thoughtless. The silence invited the wind to take their ears.

Little things like the burrows and the marks and the rocks were catching the dog's scanning eyes as they moved. John, however, put on a more relaxed gaze that focused on the air-colored mountain, ignoring the micro details around them.

Courage looked at the mountain too with frightened eyes. It taunted him with what may lie beneath it, beckoning him be swallowed and never be seen again. Every step taken brought him closer and closer to the demise that surely awaited him.

" _You'll be ready for next time_ " lingered in in his head.

He didn't feel ready, he only felt the prominent fear. The uncertainty was giving him the most awful of thoughts.

The uncertainty-the unknown- what isn't known is absent. John gave him that at the fire but it didn't form him into what he needed to be.

He was only afraid.

The rest of the movement was a blur as only the ground caught the dog's eye and the mountain caught John's. After so many steps the thoughts repeat themselves and they become redundant and form into mesh. The sky yielded a dim orange and the base of the mountain was now their domain.

Sticks were gathered. Rocks were assembled.

A few flicks from the lighter and the grass combusted and cracked.

John awoke and let Courage sleep. He spent a great deal of time staring at the glowing ashes. He blinked his eyes awake as he watched the smoke dissipate into the air. The morning used to be a new world for him. His mind and thoughts were numb but calm in the early hours. Back in the day he embraced the numbness as comfort that didn't allow negativity. He was simply too tired to worry about things.

But that was then. Worry burdened him the minute he woke up in the new world. Today was no exception.

He could die. Courage could die. He analyzed this worry in the blackness of his eyelids and saw there was no room for anxiety. He was the only line of defense against it. Both of their lives were on his shoulders and it truly frightened him. He did as he always did and slowed his breathing. The deep breaths called for confidence to take control once more. He exhaled and rose.

He crouched over Courage and pet him.

"Today we reach the compound."

The dog opened his eyes and looked at him with those frightened eye of his. John was taken aback by how suddenly he was up and moving, eyes wide away. He looked up at the mountain peak to see the clouds were gone.

They made quick work of the ashes and pushed for the slope. They both mentally wished for breakfast before taking on this incredible, challenging day.

The first steps on the risen land made Courage's stomach lurch. A few more in and he was on the verge of panic. He'd occasionally stop walking and just look up the slope in a trembling gaze.

John turned around to get him to keep up.

"Come on."

They'd take to stepping again only for Courage to stop.

"Come on, dog."

He was scared too, but the fear was manageable. He still held himself applicable and confident. He had to be. He was the only support for the fear's crushing weight. Courage wasn't holding any resilience, seemingly becoming a precious care package that needed an escort. John's responsibility was to bring him through the uncertainty in one piece.

The two were now higher than the trees at the baseline of the slope. The slope's sides rose high and they were soon in a narrow valley. The walls grew vegetation that glimmered in the sunlight with early morning dew. The valley had occasional clearings that dug into the wall with organics rooted right into the cliffside. Courage was wary of such clearings, deeming them as frightening glances into the unknown. As they walked deeper into the valley the lighting grew darker. The green, gleaming vegetation became more scarce. The valley curved and twisted, encouraging the dog to conjure the most frightening of images every time they turned a corner.

John stopped leading and grabbed the backpack off his back. He dug around in it and pulled out what he was looking for- a flashlight. He then looked into one of the clearings in the rock and pulled on a few blades of grass. He figured he could use it for binding.

He tied the flashlight to the shotgun. He thrusted the gun through the air to ensure it was fixed tightly.

Sunlight was now completely absent and the LED flashlight scanned the walls smooth and steady. The entrance for the tunnel had to be eminent now.

"Find some rocks."

They moved slowly now. The walls atot bended toward one another and formed a curve. This was an entrance to the caves.

John took in a deep breath and tossed a rock. It slapped echos toward and around hem. The darkness remained silent.

He raised the flashlight as he started to steadily step. He felt the verge of trembling but he ignored it. Can't be weak here. Can't be. He felt the tension and the gut wrenching feeling that anything could lash out.

Courage remained on the other side of the entrance until John swatted his hand toward himself.

"Stay close to me. I'll protect you."

The eerie silence straightened Courage's hair as John led him deeper into the crypt. Rocks hung above and casted intimidating shadows, while rocks on the ground threatened to be hiding spots for the unknown.

The entrance was now out of sight.

Pushing slowly and quietly, neither wanted to take in a breath. The floor soon inclined downward and John had to spread his feet wide to walk steadily with the shotgun. At the end of the rocky ramp there seemed to be a sort of hole.

Upon closer inspection it didn't appear natural; something broke through the rock. They exchanged glances before John moved steadily toward it.

Courage wined and hesitantly followed.

"Looks like we only have one way." John whispered as he aimed the flashlight in front of them.

They stepped over the bits of stone and ducked into the hole. It went inclined downward. John had to squat but Courage was small enough to walk normally. It difficult to keep a good shot and crouch, but he managed with a few grunts of discomfort.

"Up ahead. I see an opening. Keep quiet." he whispered. Courage grabbed his shoulder and peered over it, ready to scream his guts out.

They arrived at the opening with a halt and peered out of it. The flashlight reflected off something in the air. They appeared to be very thin lines. They both turned their heads with the light which followed one.

It led their gaze to a very frightening sight.

A white, fluffy mess of spider webs and eggs corrupted a portion of the cave. No movement to be detected.

"Uh oh. We'd better sneak around this before a very angry mother gets back." John said as he dared to stand out of the hole. Courage gulped.

John warned the dog regarding the sticky floor, shining the light so he can see all the webbing. They both placed their feet carefully and occasionally glanced at the nest. Courage tried to take in deep breaths but his stomach felt too heavy.

"T-There's another opening up there." John stammered out as he pointed up the ramp.

He was trembling.

Something hissed and spat. It came from the opening up the ramp.

John froze still and aimed at it, quickly noticing tiny orbs grow brighter and brighter. Before long something dark revealed itself from the shadows and caught the light.

"Get behind me!"


	9. Chapter 9: Preparatory

The youngman raised the weapon and positioned himself in a ready manor as the faint shape crept closer, it was clearly drawing in toward his flashlight. Its eight glowing orbs grew brighter as the darkness gave way to the menacing shape- a spider. The bold size of it dominated and it twisted its mandibles and spat. It leapt off the ramp with legs spread wide, intending to land right on them-

John shoved the dog to one side and thrusted for the other. The creature landed with a heavy, ground-shaking pound.

"Get behind the rocks-" He then charged at it and bashed it with the but of the gun. It hissed in protest before attempting to bite and wrestle him, but he swatted at it again. The melee forced him to step back as the creature tried to attack again.

John countered as he recovering from his own two blows, and raised the shotgun. The spider made its move and jumped for him again but the kid aligned the gun back to his shoulder and put the barrel to its eyes.

Green, gooey liquid painted him. The ringing from the blast caused a stagger but he recovered, daring for more.

Nothing happened.

"I took it out!" He called out to the rock Courage was cowering behind. He poked his head out and eyed the walls, terrified.

"Get over here. There's more." John said more to himself than to the dog as he saw several orbs closing in. He shot several times and the eyes bounced everywhere, and screeches of pain echoed throughout the cave. John looked back to see that Courage was still hidding.

"Come on out of there." He said somehow calmly, trying to ignore the heavy effects of fear. The dog clambered over the rock and ran to his side. He stared at the mess before them. The massive creature lie there with green fluid oozing from its head. It's broken face stared back at him.

"Don't look at that. This way."

They cleared the ramp and John stood tall again. There was a build up of something, a feeling of heaviness that tried to cover his insides. But he used to feel it so much more, he used to feel as if he were being suffocated or crushed. But things happened and now he just analyses it; he just knows what it is. When he never could remember the details of traumatic or suddenly hostile events, it frustrated him. But now he can remember things because he doesn't let the worst distract hm.

"I think our friends are gone." He looked down at the dog. "Did you see that shit? Jesus." He looked around, half expecting another arachnoid to come flying out of the shadows. He palmed some ammo from his pockets and loaded up the shotgun before heading onward.

Courage looked up at him and noticed the trembling. His body betrayed his stoic and calm demeanor, but it was as if the kid wanted to pretended like everything was ordinary; he didn't want to acknowledge it. John didn't like to be looked at like that. The analyzing, the digging sensation that somebody else knew something was wrong.

He stepped and raised the flashlight, trying to forget so soon. But Courage kept looking at him, and John told him to relax because things had to get done if he wanted to get out of the nightmarish cave.

"This cave is just one part of the rest of the corrupted world, there's much worse beyond this cave. I'm sure we'll meet it." He continued to walk as he spoke. "Stop looking at me like that."

They bypassed more webbing. Bones of the latest victims hung about from the ceiling, some more fresh than others. Upon closer inspection it was clear that some were humans, while others were broken apart and unidentifiable to them. The flashlight created shadows that took on the appearance of creeping predators, waiting and watching them. Courage was beyond screed and practically clung to the kids pants, and every corner rendered him unable to take normal breaths.

"What did I tell you at the barn? You have to deal with things when they come up. There's no advantage in fear; there's nothing to gain from it." He shifted his feet.

"The world doesn't allow for it anymore. When it did I was going to school and work and anticipating these anxieties, these things that could go wrong, and I never realized how important that was. You don't either, you don't understand how fear is a tool and a preparical thought process. If you expect the worst then you are prepared. My brother didn't think like that, he was overly confident and trustworthy. That's why he's dead right now."

Courage kept his eyes on the fear can help him, it can warned him.

"I-I don't know what to say" he stammered out as he still looked around for more spiders."

"That's good because something else may be watching jus right now." John whispered as he took a knee in front of the dog.

"Right now something could lunge out and-" he jabbed the dog in the stomach. "Just be smart and practical my dog, and you will survive. That's how I did it, you wouldn't even believe some of the things i've done since my brother perished. I've been outnumbered, I've been ambushed and surprised."

He stood up and started to walk with the flashlight on point.

"I guess I think fast and always plan for the worst. Just do that for me, okay?"

"Okay."

The walls cleared up as they walked. A few more corners and another hole came in sight, similar to the one that they had entered through. They made quick work of crawling into it, thankful to get out of a damn spider's hunting ground.

The hole inclined sharply upward and soon forced them to put equal pressure against the walls with their limbs. It was exhausting work and they both managed to scrape up their hands and almost slip and plummet to the bottom.

John somehow aimed at the clearing before climbing over to the surface, and then reached down to pull the dog up.

The tunnel took on a much more expansive setting. The light no longer stopped at walls and continued on the ground. The ceiling was now far above them. They were no longer in a rocky hallway, but instead a dome-like area.

"Look." Courage pointed.

There was something on the ground before them. They got closer and realized it was a thin revine. John kicked a rock and they both listened for it to hit the water below. When they heard a crack from the impact something roared in protest in the depths.

Both dog and man looked at each other.

He threw another and the roar took on a closer sound, and John aimed at the darkness until they saw four eyes closing in. He shot it and they waited until the corpse hit the water below, and he grimaced to himself.

"I'll bet that thing was huge." He let out an exhale as he put the gun on his back and examined the sidewall of the ravine.

"We can cross this." He said and Courage whimpered. He didn't like John's quick thinking.

He watched as he stepped carefully off the rock and onto the ledge of the wall.

"Just take it slow and….eh, never put your weight onto a ledge unless you know it's sturdy by giving it a good kick."

He then struck part of it with his shoe.

The more times he crossed a lg to a new part of the ledge the faster he became. He remembered the time when he and his brother went rock climbing on that psychedelic adventure at devil's lake. He remembered how coordinated he was, he remembered how connected he felt to his feet and the rock beneath him. It was his first time rock climbing but he already knew what to do. This time wasn't any different except now he had an audience. He hoped that just one person, or dog, was watching him.

"Almost there…." he turned his head toward Courage.

"What are you doing? Follow."

End of chapter

AN- Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, this fanfiction has been ENTIRELY put aside and almost forgotten. My ambition for writing has been practically nonexistent, but when I do feel like writing I want to devote that energy to a novel I started. It's a struggle for sure because I have all these ideas but I just can't sit down and write and develop them. I feel like I have respect and desirability for writing but I don't like the work that comes with it. I only like the "hot moment", or when I'm really in my head developing the most important part of any piece. The novel I started has the motif of loneliness and I want to write about how the character views social dilemmas, social experiences, and people and themes in general when compared to an extroverted person. I want to explore the moralities of a teen and his older brother, and I want to explore all the experiences they had together with psychedelics and the people who use them. I want to make my thoughts clear and developed an interesting story behind coming in and out of reality on a regular basis. The teen is the good guy! Lol

I'll probably write more for this story, as New haven and the journey to get there offers a lot of interesting things. I have it all mapped out but getting John and Courage out of the cave is a struggle for sure. I need them on the other side of the mountain with the grassy hills and trees. The corrupted (*zombies) won't be around for awhile….Not until the pair leaves the mountain range.


	10. Chapter 10 (Guardian)

(Update)-My computer has been repaired.

The dim lighting casted illusions for the climber as he was plastered about the rocks, watching them carefully. What appeared to be flat pieces of rock were really shadows, and the kid had placed his footing onto these false misconceptions and almost lost balance twice. He slowed his pace and carefully examined each foot movement as Courage stood by the drop-off and stared at him. The dog was trying to take careful notice of John's limbs, he wanted to imprint what he saw so he could mimic it. But he was much smaller than John, Courage couldn't do what he could.

"Get moving. We aren't in a good position like this."

Courage took a few fearful steps and peered downward, afraid of whatever else waited in the darkness of the ravine. He then looked at the wall in search of a niche for his foot, and he poked at it several times before putting his weight onto it.

'Okay, here it goes.'

"Careful now. I'll pull your ass out of there dead or alive if you fall." John cocked a smile and kept shifting about the rocks.

The dog then relieved himself from the drop-off and was forced to hug the wall. He was trembling and whimpering as he dared to look down into the abyss. He slowly reached down toward the first piece of rock, desperately trying to keep his eyes from rolling downward any further. He'd stop moving and become a statue, feeling his vertigo trying to end him.

He exhaled a few times and closed his eyes for a brief moment. After being still for a moment, he reopened them and went for the next niche. Then the another, and another. Before he knew what was happening he was behind John, close enough for some comfort.

"You're good, let's do it" John gave him a quick glance over the shoulder. They then continued to poke and test and converge closer to the edge. John reached the end and hoisted himself up, pulling the dog up with him. He took the shotgun off his back and aimed the light down the ravine's depths. Courage almost gasped at what they saw. There were those orbs glowing in the dark, unmoving and waiting. They didn't blink, they were still and obviously watching them.

"Stay quiet." John leaned down and touched Courage, guiding him away from the ravine's edge.

Courage swallowed and nodded, taking weak steps back before his heart thumped in his chest. His hair stood tall and his legs wobbled. he expected to be attacked right there before he could move anymore. He pulled at John's pants and pointed toward the abyss, not wanting to risk being attacked.

"You want me to shoot it? Bad idea... There could be more than spiders down there."

Courage sighed and followed, taking a long look behind himself.

The pair then came across more fissures and ravines, but luckily, they didn't have to cross them and could walk around each one. The huge dome-like ceiling was cloaked in darkness but one could tell they were in a large area from the scrapes and echos of their feet. The scratching and digging of John's shoes made the sounds of gentle placement and careful positioning. His walking was a low and stealthy display that took thought for every movement.

The ravines started to become smaller until they were nothing but large fissures, and the bottoms of them were visible with the flashlight. Most of them were empty but some had broken rocks and forgotten bones, revealing recent and ancient activity in the area.

"See those big ass bones? Let's hope we don't find what killed whatever the heck that was." John spoke with mockery before punching the air. "Or he'd be sorry." he then smirked and giggled to himself like a little child, daring a teacher to do anything about his misbehavior. Courage opened his mouth.

"Stop laughing! I-I'm scared!" He crossed his arms and looked away into the black.

"I laugh because it's fucked up."

Once clear from the fissures they had more walking space, and the ceiling was far too tall for the flashlight's beam to reach it. Millions of little specs floated about in the still, heavy air, creating a labored intake and exhale for them. John was sweating perpetually and was just past the first things the lungs do when they are overtaxed.

"Too much climbing."

It was a relief, however, to have his breathing room once more. He and Courage have been forced to crawl and scale the rocks rather close together, creating awkward tension. It was suffocating because he knew he was every step, he knew every time they headed onward it was him and not them. He was constantly being watched from behind and every mistake he made was a discouragement of reassurance. Every little thing.

The openness also led to some much needed thinking space. Back in the claustrophobically rock and fissure area it was hard to pick out a reasonable path to follow. One couldn't see past all the obstacles. He had been forced to turn around too many times to count and it was a relief to be in the open. Now all he wanted was the sun.

The ceiling remained tall and unseen as they stepped onward, growing less and less cautionary by the minute. Something about the area was different, the structures and rock formations were more smooth and clean-cut. The sediment under his shows was much more fine and powdery compared to what he was stepping on before the ravine.

A few more of creeping steps up and down this fine flooring and Courage stopped to straighten his ears. "I hear water."

They stopped moving to listen. John made a sudden start and walked faster, just about desperate for a drink of water. Their cantines ran dry just after they the strenuous insertion into the fissures.

"Water!" He said excitedly, causing Courage to feel the first shred of euphoria he'd felt in a long time.

The powdery floor began to dip down and the sound took on a more deepened echo as they closed in. The echoes hinted for a much larger source of water than John expected, he thought maybe the dog had just picked up the sound of a little pouring leak from the rock. But it was a running stream, it was something that entailed much more than just a drink.

The decline in the floor took on a more gradual approach before the water was glimmering in the flashlight. The other side of the stream was flat rock that rose far above into the darkness, covered in little niches and cracks. They both took a knell together and scanned the sides of the flowing water, looking at both sides wondering what it meant for them and their next move.

"Looks safe." Courage put his face into the cool water, paying close attention to his peripheral vision like a gazelle on the Nile's shoreline. John cupped his hands and dipped them in, feeling his cuts and calluses from the climbing against the flow.

The incline they were kneeled over jutted straight into the water will no surface area to stand upon, so the two had to kneel on their knees and lean over rather dangerously over it. They both didn't care, as It was cold and crisp and vividly coating their cracked lips. John knew they were lucky this water flow existed due to the geographic occurrence. He should have planned better for their hydration. The dog was gulping down water faster than he could handle, and coughed harshly as he raised his head and looked around.

The direction it came from was cut off by the rock and yielded nowhere to walk, and the other direction had a small junction of land to walk upon. He pointed and they both looked over it, apparent to it that it continued onward.

As they followed the patch of loose sediment it eventually jutted into a larger plain, and the wall adjacent to the stream retreated. The incline rose toward it until it was aligned with the wall itself. Then the water became more shallow and narrow, but it was still running strong

Courage's paws burrowed into the sediment, making the parallel walk along incline labored and slow. John had no issues keeping a steady, consistent pace as he looked behind himself every so often to see Courage slip. Although his eyes were sunken in and dark with the loss of everything, he did have the energy and generally robust movement he needed for this place. John stared at him as he carefully watched every footing and movement, not wanting to fall into the cold water. Once Courage caught up and joined his side, they both stood with bent legs and looked around again. John was looking for a niche to call a makeshift resting area, while Courage just looked around because he thought he was supposed to. John led on and Courage watching his legs stomp over the grains with little care. Every step was unconsciously placed and his posture was just barely forward, but keeping a defensive balance on his heels. He walked perfectly. He planned his movements so knowingly and calmly. Courage looked at his own little feet and felt bad about them. They were scrawny and weak, they have never been sharpened.

The incline of sand paralleled the river for a long while until it leveled out and the river was deep and wide again. The whitecaps in the flow became more dense and harsh, and some of the rocks surfaced above it. For a long while John looked around, unwilling to walk any further. He couldn't possibly know what lied ahead and he wanted to be rested. The wall behind them, to their benefit, was crumbled apart. Some large boulders were crushed together, making a sort of one-sided entry area. "The river will continue to guide us, but I need my rest."

Courage murmured an 'mmhmm' but he wasn't really tired, but he didn't care. He most likely would be deprived of sleep anyway if he tried after seeing that thing that tried to eat them.

"Let's secure that thing." John pointed to a cluster of rocks.

The shadows from the light scarred Courage until he was in the middle of the shelter, and he poked his head out for one last look before turning to John. He had his back against the rock and looked at his gun, then to him.

"I need to rest. You look well to me." he shrugged awkwardly before snuggling up against Courage.

"Watch over me while I sleep."

Courage hung his mouth open as John pet him over his docile, sad eyes. He felt a chilling calmness brush over his shoulders when his fur was touched and swept over. John looked at him with fatigued before closing his eyes. "Wake me for anything."

Courage hovered over his new guardian with wariness, unsure of what he was feeling. He was scarred. He was in a deep, dark, hostile environment that he was now the only eyes for. But he also found tranquillity sitting next to him. He was safe, even in John's unconscious state he was a guardian. His body was large and fleshed out with robust, toned muscle. His face was stern. His limbs were straight and relaxed, ready at a moment's notice. John was the bigger brother he never had, the person that would fight off his bullies. Courage was sad to see how weak his own frail body was. Courage was weak. He was small with curly limbs and an unfamiliar, scarred face. He hoped that he was Muriel's guardian, that he fit the role John was now holding for him.

He slowly reached down and played with a rock, looking at him just as he did in the attic. Courage was too curious about him in that attic, he was scared and bewildered that a kid had come into his safe area without any hint. He broke down a door. He broke down the barrier that hid him from the world, and dragged him into it. He dragged him into the hostility that he was trying so hard to hide from forever, and now he was in a cave full of monsters.

The water was a constant hum over the rocks they were ducking behind, and it constantly reminded Courage that he was still thirsty. He wanted to get up for a drink, but he was too scared to walk ten paces away from John. He looked at his paws in shame. He grabbed the rock and tossed it, waiting to hear it splash in the water. He looked back at his paws in thought of his own pity before he heard a second splash, followed by a sort of rustling in the water. His stomach became heavy and he grew cold, he just sat there and waited. His paws began to shake as he pressed down on John's chest them on John's chest, wanting him. But he didn't wake him, he just sat there and waited for his turn to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11 Before the rise

The dryness in his throat made for a labored come up as John awoke. He struggled to lift his heavy body and sit up on his palms, massaging his neck. "What a terrible idea to sleep here." He croaked out, and a pink blur turned around to face him. The dog had been looking out the arch of the rock doom.

"What is it?"

They both looked back into the black. Courage was becoming more clear as John rubbed his eyes.

"I want to get some sleep now." Courage whispered as he then slowly slid down a rock, unblinking.

John upped himself and walked past the rocks, telling Courage to get to sleep. The water was crisp as he knelt over it to fight his cottonmouth. Courage in turn watched with curiosity, knowing he himself would be more careful. He closed his eyes and passed out.

John threw the flashlight over his shoulder as he prowled around the doom's surroundings. He peaked behind rocks and kicking at the pebbles, trying to get the attention of whatever was out there. The act of pacing calmed him into thinking better. He needed to scout ahead of the rockwall's corner. But Courage shouldn't be left alone. Something wasn't right about the dog's look before he went to sleep, something happened. Maybe something was lurking around, maybe he should look around for it. He stopped pacing and brandished the shotgun. He looked in the doom before finding a large rock. It was quite heavy, and he had to hold his breath as he dragged it in front of the doom's opening. He figured it would deceive any prey, hopefully.

'Alright, let's do it.'

He stepped back and made certain that the doom looked inconspicuous before the walk towards the unknown. A solid pace in footing built up audacity in him. How dare something lurk about and pray on him, pray on his friend? He was now the predator looking for a meal. He will feed on their fear. This deepened the pit in his stomach and goosebumps raised on his arms. His hair was tall and he was trembling, shaking. Maybe he was scared, or maybe he was eager to scare he wasn't sure. The echoes of stepping carved the cave's inners and came behind him. He tried to focus on them, to hear the walls. He was desperate to know what was beyond the curve,

He just had to wait, just a little longer.

'But you need food.'

He sighed and gulped. Overly conscious to his peripheral vision, he knelt down to drink. The water was cooler than it had been before, it must have recently been on the surface.

Maybe he could just take a peek ahead, Courage would be fine. He looked back at the doom one more time before drawing in towards the curve. The water saluted and rose, so he watched his footing on the slippery rock. He reached the unseen area past the curve. Daylight. There were several more ravines, but they looked different. They had roots growing out of them, piercing out of rock and what appeared to be soil. John clambered up onto a ravine's wall and touched the roots. The forest floor of the northern mountain was just above. His stomach groaned from sudden excitement. They were going to make it out alive, he just had to push a few more hours. But he knew even after emerging from the caves, they needed to get to work and find something to eat. He for one was past the early stages of hunger, and Courage was sure to be starved too. His chest was heavy ands he exhaled, shining the gun into the depths o the small ravine.

'I'm going in.'

He tore at the roots until a path was cleared, and then squeezed through. It was a tight for, as he had to crouch and shuffle through the rocky corridor. It had some old webbing and other things plastering on the walls. He threw a few chunks to see if anything happened. It was quiet. He kept crawling and crawling, eventually having to lay down. He was scared now, He couldn't turn back, and he only could go forward. He seriously hoped he hadn't just killed himself, and Courage. Was he going to be stuck in here and become a mummy?

Just before he couldn't progress any further, he saw the break of daylight into the cave. It was bright, relieving and uprising to him as he desperately crawled forward. He thought he was going to die. He almost laughed as he reached for the sunlight. The trees, the soil and weeds all welcomed him as he emerged, gasping for breath. He made it, they made it! He fell to his knees and embraced the sun's rays, feeling the blades of grass gently scrape his knees. He was somewhere on a mountain, alone. There was a time when this was all he wanted, to escape the human culture and breath in the virgin forest air. He used to wish for times like this when he's be in class or going to work, constantly doing things for others. Now he was alone, now he wished he could go back. It's only been two years, his memories of society are recent and intact. But how long will he remember? Now he only had a dog to talk to. on a mountain alone. He looked down by his shoe.

There was a fungus sprouting from the rock, a fungus he knew. It was a psilocybin mushroom, a cubensis fungal mushroom. He hadn't seen anything like that since before the end of humanity, since he lost his brother. He picked several handfuls and wrapped them in leaf litter. They could be useful. He smiled and stood proudly over the cliffside before turning back into the cave. Courage was going to see the sunlight, too.

Once John returned to the doom, he was relieved to see that it looked undisturbed. He quietly crawled into it and saw that the dog was still asleep. However, he notiuced that he moved places and made himself comfortable with several quilts. He grabbed one and made himself comfortable, resting his backpack next to himself. He wanted to giggle and cry. Those mushrooms were going to be heaven or hell, and he wasn't sure if he should eat them or not. It's been years for his mind, and he wasn't in the right setting anymore, the world wasn't right anymore. He already was in hell, and they would make it worse. Or they would relieve him from it. He thought about it for hours until courage woke up.

The dog struggled awake, shuffling and groaning before finally sitting up just as John did. Courage looked over with the last dusk of fear before it all vanished. Relief fell over him when he saw that stern look.

"I found a way out." John greeted his sleepy friend. "When you're ready, we're getting out of this cave and finding something to eat."

Courage smiled and sat up so he can rest against the wall. He looked at the quilt he slept on and picked at the stitching.

John waited impatiently as Courage made himself ready to go. His backpack was open, he was neatly folding each quilt before slipping them into the bag. He was real quiet about it, causing a sort of tense and uneasiness for John. They didn't have time for this.

"Hurry up, we need to go. How's your stomach? Mine's killing me."

"It hurts. But I'm used to going hungry. I didn't scavenge much before you came along." He said as he folded the last quilt. He was upset that they had dirt on them, as they were one of the only remnants of Muriel he had. Judging by the nonlinear stitching, John had to assume they were made from that lady he lived with. He too carried things from his former family, and the most important thing was his brother's hacky sack. He dug it out of hi pocket and tossed it around waiting for Courage to finish up. He conserved lots of things from his brother's room before he abandoned it, and he still had them. He suddenly felt like crying and this irritated him.

"Hurry the fuck up."

Courage zipped the backpack shut and joined his side, taken aback by the sudden hostility.

The water coaxed him into leaving Courage to quench his thirst. The dog was too scared to go near the water again. After John told him he hadn't seen anything, the dog remained on edge and wary.

Overly conscious to his peripheral vision, he knelt down to drink. After palming the water and rising up, he pointed to the curve. "Our escape is just past there."

The first thing Courage appreciated was the sun. He felt its warmth heat up his body as he emerged from the last layers of soil and rock. The smell of fresh vegetation caught his nose as he climbed out and pressed his paws against the earth.

"We made it."


	12. Chapter 12: The birds

A/N: I have a very frustrating issue with google docs and this site working together. And when i type dirrectly on the documents on this site, it always crashes and i constantly have to save.

The compound of New Haven was emerging upon them. Courage's paws were warm from the black asphalted roadway that led them towards the brown, rusting structure. It felt nice. John could just barely make out basic details, such as the gate or some kind of tower just off to the side of it. They had made it, he promised the dog he'd get him there and he did. With their arrival, Courage's uncertainty was finally disappearing. He was finally feeling a sort of relief, for he reached the distress beacon the Computer had shown him.

He finally left the mountain behind, and with it, the worst fear he had ever known. The cave and its darkness and monsters were even more heavy than the death of Muriel. Now he was eager, excited, and nervous. But he wasn't scared. There were people in that structure up the road. They'd help him. He knew they would.

But John was obviously skeptical. The last time he trusted, he lost. People attacked and forced bad things to happen. Red filled his vision, and his fists were bruised when he got away from those demons. The overwhelming sensation of relying upon another being's mercy was too much. He was regretful to tell Courage that they were in their last few hours together.

"What?"

"I can't go there. If you're willing to trust those people, go for it. But I won't."

"But I like you."

John was annoyed that he had to say this, the dog already knew this was coming.

"This is survival, and I'm not putting my life in danger anymore. I like you too, Courage. you're now my only friend. I'm about to lose you because you're too fucking optimistic! God damn, I'll send you well on your way with some berries, but if those people are who you think they are, they will feed you." He crossed his arms and huffed as he walked faster.

Courage was rejected and felt his gut drop. A shadow passed over him. Then another. He looked up and saw a pair of vultures circling above him. The sun silhouetted the birds, they were just glimpses of chaos ready to swoop down at any moment. They were waiting, watching for their victim to take the plunge into the unknown. They needed him vulnerable, and he was feeling vulnerable. Why were they not attacking?

Courage suddenly knew something was very wrong. They were swooping down! He closed his eyes and winched. They'd peck and scratch at his face, his thoughts, his plans, until there was nothing. He was prey, food for the haunting and wicked. John was right.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?"

He opened his eyes and looked passed his trembling arms. John tapped him and asked again-

"Do you have a headache again?"

"No. I don't know."

Courage was shaken and confused, and he looked up at a very clear blue sky. He shook his head, and refused to believe John's cynicalism. There were good people just up the road. They were not going to harm him.

John squinted at him. "I have to piss." He then stepped over the hump on the side of the road, walking past things awkwardly and not saying much. There was an abundance of cacti and other plants overgrowing off to the side, and he walked into it, leaving Courage.

The sun, the heat, and the releasing sensation made him a little dizzy. He watched the urine splash around in the dry sand. A thought struck him as he stood there peeing. He could take refuge in one of the many farmhouses around the area, while Courage took his chances at that place. He could remain close to the dog incase he needed him. A farm could make for a good long-term stay. Anywhere worked, really. He could live under a rock. But winter was due in the later months of the year, and he needed a solid area to call safe.

Courage was waiting patiently with his back turned, fiddling with something. He had the backpack in his paws and he was rummaging through it for berries. The kid didn't feel comfortable with him digging around in there. He was relieved when he pulled out the berries and not the psilocybin.

C ate the berries, waiting for the kid to finish peeing. The dog was stupid. He was stupid for daring to go inside that place. He was probably going to die. Who would want some mut to feed? He'd be shot before the door was done opening. It was a real shame.

Courage was a good friend to have been made, he felt real bad that he was about to lose him. But he was rewired into a solitary existence a long time ago, and he was about to return to it. Courage was nothing, he had to be for his own psyche. He'd forget about him. But he could try and save him until he was behind those walls. He could try.

After urinating, he stretched back to the road while Courage eyed the compound in the distance, chewing slowly. John frowned down at him and gestured him to walk with him once more.

"Don't go there. I'm warning you, right now."

The dog swallowed the last of the berries. He was walking faster now.

"But they have technology, it could lead to something more than just getting by." He was determined to get there before something else changed his mind. Those things in the sky, those demonic shadows, were not about to deter his will for a better life. He will not be alone again, and John was either coming with him, or ditching him.

"It could also lead to your grave. It could be a trap for supplies, or even slaves, for all we know. Come with me, it's not too late to stop this."

'Stop'? He didn't want to admit it. Was he to stay with the kid that used him as bait to take out all threats to himself? He looked onward at the hazing and bending road and sky, at the waving building. It was a very hot day. He wanted more water, as his head was feeling too warm again. He asked for some.

"If you don't come with me, where are you going to go?" Courage asked between sips of water. He rocked back and forth a little on his feet, not wanting to think about John's thinking, but he had a point.

But John wasn't willing to risk anymore. To him, that's a big mistake and it deprives the chance for change, which is what John was preaching to him just a few nights ago.

John lit a cigarette while the dog was sipping the water, scowling around, and sometimes getting stuck on the tower next to the building. He could have swore he saw a flicker of light.

Binoculars?

"I'll bring you no further than the front door. After that, you're on your own." He took a long drag and exhaled smoked through his nostrils.

Courage continued to push forward.

THIS STRUCTURE HAS BEEN CLEARED OF ALL RESOURCES BY THE NEW HAVEN SURVIVORS. WE HAVE FOOD AND SECURITY. FOLLOW THE ROAD TO OUR SANCTUARY AND WE WILL HELP ALL THAT ARE NOT A THREAT.

John and Courage were reading a sign on a door. They decided to stray off the main road just before reaching the compound, and investigate one of the many farms. The windows were boarded up and the door was nailed shut. He had to assume all the houses in the area were thoroughly investigated by those people.

"It's picked dry, obviously." He kicked at the old, dilapidated door lightly.

"Well, this is it. I told you I'd get you here. I'm sure we're being watched as I say this." he knelt down and pet Courage.

"Let's get you where you need to be. I'll stick around for a while, but I won't really know if you're okay or not."

They walked in silence until the rusty doors and gate of the compound were just a few steps away. Courage clenched his fist and John looked up at the towering gate. A sign of some sort was embedded into the metal work, glimmering in the sunlight. It was a symbol, but John wasn't sure for what.

The dog jumped as something made noise far above them. It came from the tower, off to the left. There was a huge patch of shrubs and vegetation growing around the base of the tower, and they had to squint past the leaves.

"What do you want, kid?" A woman called out.

John's mouthy fell open and he couldn't say anything/

"Christ, is that one of those things? I'm about to shoot you, so speak."

"I c-come with good intention. I'm not here to steal."

"As if you could, kid. We have a lot of things here, things that you wouldn't want to see the other end of. What do you want?" She spoke with massive authority, and the sun blacked out her form. Her face. He couldn't see her face.

"I don't like it." He said to Courage, who was staring up at her. She was very high up.

"I don't want anything from you. My friend here, though, does." He gestured to the little pink dog standing next to him.

"Is that right? Is he sick?"

"No." Courage spoke up.

"Hmmm, well we don't lie here. We take in anyone who isn't a threat. Stand back you two, I'm opening the gate."

John felt an immense threat to his safety and well-being, and he started to sweat and breath fast. Courage took notice and tapped at his leg to try and calm him. The door was slowly hinging open, and he looked straight ahead as his eyes felt heavy. A shadow was moving over him. The door and the blackness behind it was openning.

'You know the birds were right, dog.'

The rusty metal grinded and grated until it became still, and Courage stepped behind John. He changed his mind, he didn't want to be at New Haven Compound.

'Fuck this.'


	13. Chapter 13: New Haven

A/N: I'm thinking about making Katz the antagonist to New haven, and I most likely will do it. He will meet a very rough ending.

The shadow swallowed him. He couldn't move, paralyzed.

"Courage, I think, I think-"

Then a blur, a blotch of sudden chaos burst towards them. The door opened to an army of men, really. They surrounded the pair and looked threatening enough.

"Were dead, aren't we?" He asked Courage. He shrugged. Probably.

"Set your gun down upon the sand. Just stay calm and do as we say." A large man said. He was holding an assault rifle. The safety was on.

"Alright.." John said with a long stare. His eyes were murky, cloudy, slow. He felt an immense threat as he unstrapped the shotgun and set it down in the sand.

"What else do you have?"

"A backpack, with food and stuff."

"Open it."

"I'd rather not."

A tense wave of silence followed, and the men stopped circling and looked down at Courage. The dog looked up fearfully as one of them scowled down at him.

"What's he have?"

"Nothing. I hold everything. It's just food and supplies, nothing dangerous to you. May I pick up my gun, now?" He didn't wait for an answer. He bent down and picked it up by the strap. The large man watched as he clipped it on his back, and then looked at the other men.

"Alright fellas, head back inside. He's okay."

They were wearing something heavy, thick and green. It looked like some kind of armor. The men shuffled past the gate as the brute of a man crossed his arms. He waved up at the girl in the tower.

"It's okay, Linda, it's just a kid."

There was not an answer as he looked back down. He towered over the boy.

"What do you want from us?"

His voice was deep, calm. John was calm now.

"I want to get as far away from this place as possible. This dog, though, would like to stay. He found your distress beacon." He gestured toward Courage, who was acting real shy. He didn't look up and remained fixed on the pebbles and rocks. He didn't want to be there anymore.

"We can do that. We have food and protection here, growing slowly as people find themselves here. We put signs everywhere, and we hope to save as many as possible. We have hundreds here, we will take good care of your dog." He looked down at Courage again.

"Shy little guy, isn't he?"

"It's Okay, he won't be trouble." John promised as they stood there looking at him. The birds were still watching.

"Sometimes we have trouble here."

"He isn't troubled, believe me…"

Courage returned back to the sand and pebbles. All three were then quiet, and the wind picked up. John looked at the aging walls. They were remarkable built.

"Would you like to come in? We have food, water and medical supplies. It looks like you can use it."

John didn't like being invited inside. This was where he fucked up.

"Uh, I personally don't trust this place. I don't trust you, but this dog, Courage, does. I can't speak for him, but I won't go inside."

His voice was stern, and the shogun's safety was not active.

"Well, that's a real shame, kid. You're all alone out there, aren't you?"

"Now I am.." He frowned down at Courage. His eyes said 'f _uck this place_!' But he couldn't say anything with that guy right there. He couldn't convince him, this was it.

Courage was taken inside as the doors slowly closed. He looked back for the last time to see John staring, unblinking and unmoving. His hands hung loosely in front of him. The door closed.

Courage clenched a paw as the large man led him onward, not saying anything until they left the door behind. He was led towards what he could only call a makeshift village. The large main building, with its smokestacks and pane windows, appeared to once be a factory. It was then just a structure to call a safehouse, and multiple shacks and buildings surrounded it. Old pipes and girders lay scattered about the sand and weeds, probably too heavy to push out of the way.

They stopped in the center of the shacks. People were walking around, some watching them, some too busy to notice.

"Welcome to New Haven. I'll have a tour set up. It looks like you can use some food, boy." He smiled down at the dog. Courage didn't look up at him, too distracted by all the people. An old woman was tending some kind of garden, and children were running around playing.

"Clair, hey! Get some bread." He shouted to one of the many huts around them. It was a little, brittle shack that was losing its structural integrity. A young, slim women leaned over the trimming.

"Sure thing, Chief!" she called out cheerfully. A door on the side of the shack swung open and she ran over with a plate and bread.

"Aww, a doggy!"

She pet him gently on the head and handed the plate to him. "Poor thing looks terrified!" Concern was in her voice, and Courage finally looked up. He was holding the plate awkwardly as she smiled at him.

"A boy just left him here.." The brute of a man spoke. He had some facial hair, but it looked groomed and well kept. His hair was black, and he wore a brown leather jacket and scarf.

"I'm Allen, by the way, leader of the New Haven Compound."

Courage blinked up at him and decided to start eating the bread. He looked around as he chewed, watching the several people going about their activities. Some were working, some were lounging and smoking. He went unnoticed as he stood there. Where the heck did he find himself? There were people everywhere! This was what he wanted, but he wanted to leave. He didn't understand it, he didn't feel threatened anymore. But he felt wrong for being there, John was nagging the back of his head. It didn't feel right, being in new Haven.

Clair, would you like to show him around? I have to get back to planning." He sounded edgy when he said that, and Claire nodded.

"Welcome home, Courage." He then walked away. Clair waited for him to leave before petting him once more.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing! Okay, we can show you around. You'll love it here, I promise!"

She was a young girl, probably John's age. She was still a kid, and had the energy of one. When they walked past a light post or a telephone pole, she just had to swing from it or jump off a rock. She would point out important personal, such as the blacksmith or caretakers or hunters. The blacksmith was hitting a glowing piece of steel, and Courage looked to see an arsenal of swords. He then noticed people with swords on their backs.

The medical tent was empty, hold for a single man in a white coat. There were benches and tables with glass beakers and other equipment. The man locked eyes with him as the girl led him on.

"Courage, I hope you find yourself at home here. We are good people, and we've helped a lot in our day. I don't know what you have endured, but I hope you become one of us."

' _One of us_ '

He nodded slightly.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

He shrugged.

"Hmm, that's okay. I'm sure you just don't know what to think. I arrived here a while back, but I remember being scared. When I got here, they were burning corpses by the hundreds. Fire, heat and hatred was all I felt when I walked past the gate. I was terrified. I didn't know what they were burning was the dead, and I thought maybe I was next. They offered me bread and water, and I tried to pay back what I could. And now I'm here, this is my home now."

Courage gave her a strange look. She lost her family. They were one.

"Sleeping arrangements are simple. You pick an area and tell your group leader. We have six leaders here, each responsible for a few hundred people. You may sleep both inside the factory or out here, it's up to you. I'm not sure which group leader you'll be assigned, we'll have to ask." She paused and looked over her shoulder before leaning close to him.

"You didn't hear this, but there's a group out there. A mean, nasty group that wants to take New Haven for themselves. Last I heard, Allen had a heated debate outside the gate with a few representatives of the camp. It didn't end well, and threats were made."

"Allen has been stressed about it, and he's scared. He and his austeres, those men in the green, have been planning something. I'm not sure what. I know he will do anything for us, and I know he has the power." Then her voice took on a heavier tone.

"I'm certain Allen knows where those fucks are held up, who are they to threaten us? Between us, I want Allen to take them out. We have the power alright."

Courage nodded again. Now he was certain that he didn't want to be here.

"But enough about that, that's not for the community. We are safe inside these thick walls, you know. I probably shouldn't be telling you that, anyway. But enough about that. Let's get you a group assigned. I think Jimmy will take you in, let's go see."

They walked into a tent.

"Hey, I have a new member here." Claire walked over and grabbed at a man's shoulder. He had aging hair and freckles on his face. His eyes were green.

"New dog, eh? Cool." Was all that Jimmy to say. He was bent over a radio.

"Well, I'll take him under my wing. I have the fewest members, and he shouldn't cost too much energy."

He walked over and pet Courage. "Well alright, you can sleep around this area come nighttime. Shouldn't be too cold tonight." He turned back to the radio. Courage wondered if this was the man who sent the S.O.S distress signal. It had to be, and he felt the need to thank him. He didn't find his voice as Clair slapped him on the back.

"I have to get back to cooking. Feel free to talk to people. Also, we like to earn our keep around here. Ask around for work once you feel ready."

She walked quickly away, as if in a hurry. She had more bread to bake.

Courage sighed and stepped out of the tent, feeling the need to explore. Several little children ran past him, kicking a ball around and laughing. Some pointed and laughed at him. They were mocking him, he was certain of it. They were mocking his abandonment and choice to go somewhere he had no business being. He couldn't help this place in any way. He waited for the children to carry on before following them, unsure of what to do or where to go. He didn't want to bother the medical tent, he didn't want to bother Jimmy, and he didn't want to be trouble.

After the children were gone, he decided to check out some of the shacks. He felt bad whenever curiosity got the better of him and he's peal inside, and then he'd meet the eye of somebody. Sometimes they were mean.

' _How dare that mutt look in here'_ A voice would say in his head.

' _What's he going to do? We don't need muts around here._ ' Another voice would say.

The thoughts got worse as he walked deeper into the compound, revealing more makeshift structures. Crates and cargo equipment scattered the inner-circle of the compound, and he decided that he wanted to hide there for a while. Just until Claire was looking for him again. She was nice. Allen scared him, something didn't feel right about him. He was always smiling, and he was smug and cocky. But he seemed friendly, so why did Courage fear him? He didn't know, he didn't know.

He rested his back against a wooden crate and lowered to the sand, swirling around his tongue and picking pieces of bread from his gums. That bread was fresh, a luxury, really. It was nice to eat something heavy. John's blueberries-

He didn't want to think about him. He was nagging the back of his head.

' _I told you dog_ ' Lingered. He argued with it.

' _They aren't evil! I'm fine!_ '

' _They are evil. You just don't know it_ ' A vulture said. It was perched on a dried out stick, glaring into him.

He sat,waiting for something to happen. He needed direction, he always needed direction. Somebody tell him what to do.

Allen opened the door to his office, which used to be the office to an employee under the name of New haven metals, inc. Now it was his. He used the desk, the chair and the board for the new world's order. He had to do things just as the former had, but he was sure his things were more important. He saved people, stopped bad things from corrupting everything. The corrupted had to be stopped, and he was the one to do it. When the world ended, he knew what he needed to do. People needed a leader, and nobody was leading. So he took his family and friends to a place he knew about, a friend's workplace. The friend had a set of keys.

Once inside the office, the austeres were waiting around a table. Some were leaned over with their guns set aside, while other stood tall and proud. They were great men, the austeres. Allen recruited them. He picked the best of the best, worthy men that dedicated everything to protect those that needed them. He trusted them.

"Where were we?" He asked aloud. Someone cleared their throat.

"We were discussing our next move."

Allen scratched his beard.

"And? What are we going to do, huh? We can't wait forver. We have been threatened, and we need to deal with it. Us? I know we need to go there. There's no question that we are in danger."

"But how? They'll see us coming from miles away, literally." One said.

"So we go in at night, just a few of us. I know you all have the skills for it. We need the surgical precision of a spartan, and you guys are the scalpel."


	14. Chapter 14: The boss of New Haven

The late sun casted long rays of light beyond the crates as the dog sat there. It was getting late, and he was waiting for sundown. He wished Clair hadn't left him, because he'd be distracted by her and her childish demeanor. The immaturity of a child was practically a miracle to him at this point. He hadn't seen a kid in a long while, the creativity that emits from them and what they see. Claire was a teeneager, he was sure of it. She was sweet, and something about her energy made him want to be around her. She was the only friendly face she had seen in the compound, even Allen's face was discomforting with that wide grin of his. But that girl looked happy. How was that possible? Was Allen happy? He wasn't sure, he barely knew these people existed. He just considered himself lucky that he wasn't dead, or being beaten or used as a slave even.

As the sun was lowering, Courage thought about the temperature. He felt like he should seek out Jimmy, the guy in the tent bent over a radio. He was his new leader? A guy in a coat? The thought of it made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to confront anyone there, for any reason. Maybe he sleep behind the crates? Who was responsible for those crates? Did Allen or Jimmy... No.

He, Courage the dog, owned the crates. They were his, all his, and he could hide in them. They hid him away from dealing with anything, and he didn't have to decide. He could sit back there forever, never to be seen again. He didn't have to decide.

"They won't even notice. I'm staying here, right here." He announced to an overgrown plant. The late orange glow colored it warmly, and he looked at the grass and other plants. He felt warm. The temperature was forgiving. It was nice. He hadn't been alone since John found him in the farmhouse, and a part of him craved the loneliness. The murder of his family left him in shivers and vulnerability for a long time. He'd cry often and get cold. But as the days turned to months, and months turned to who-knows-how-long, he remained broken, sad but without the shivers. The crying then led to inconsistent sobs and then they just died off. He felt nothing then. He'd cry and feel warm, just warm. He wouldn't feel cold, or scared or uneasy. The dullness and warmth were all that he felt after it had been so long.

The warmth felt nice.

He fell asleep.

He slept until early dawn, cracking his eyes open as the earliest of sunlight started to slither over the crates. It was a chilly morning. He rested his spine against a crate as he watched the light get brighter. The birds were chirping, and some were flying around the wire poles and rooftops of New Haven. They were noisy, chirping cheerfully and looking for breakfast, or pieces for a nest or whatever birds do. They fly around all day, and wait for the sun to set. And then they do it all again. He'd like to be one of them, just flying around all day and chirping. Were the birds happy? They were annoying.

' _Shut up_ '

' _Stupid bird, you woke me_!'

Courage soon learned that the townspeople of New Haven were earlymen. Doors opened, people climbed out and started the noise of a new day's work. Cooking, cleaning, fixing, making, training, helping- They were clearly good people, so why did he feel so bad about them?

They made him feel unwelcome. Jimmy seemed like an asshole. He didn't know why, he was just an asshole. Maybe it was the way he wasn't surprised, or he was just "used to it". He barely noticed that there was a survivor right before him! He was spoiled, unaware.

There were too many people there, Courage realized.

"Too many people, too many people…..people…..too many people." He repeated and wrapped his arms around his legs, rocking back and forth. He had hoped that nobody would take interest in the cluster of crates that morning.

Nobody did.

The productions of morning continued with his absence, and his absence remained unnoticed. Was he about to live there, behind the crates and overgrown weeds? He needed to eat, and his stomach growled. He'd have to face the people soon enough, so he got up. He could always return later. He needed to find Clair.

Courage meandered slowly back to her bread shack, looking into other shacks and seeing things that he hadn't seen in a long time. Sometimes he'd stop to stare, or walk slower to get a more detailed scope on the area. As he walked back from the inner-circle of the compound, his feelings of harshness started to subside. He didn't have to decide until the night time, he had all day to not think about it. Hell, when the time did come to pick a place to sleep, he could sneak back to the crates.

"Doggy!" The girl yelled out as he found her shack. Claire leaned over the trim. He looked up at her and rubbed his stomach.

"Aww, let me get you some bread and water. We don't have cattle here, we used to, but we don't now. Sometimes we have venison, but it's rare. We grow vegetables, too!" She smiled and handed him a plate. He ate the bread.

"I talked with jimmy, and you can definately stay in that area when it's time to sleep. Just stay out of his tent, he has some medic chemicals in there that don't need to fall in the wrong paws, you feel me? Where were you last night?"

She waited for an answer, but didn't get one.

"Up to no good, I assume?" She mocked and ruffled his head. He didn't smile at all and looked down, embarrassed. He thought he got away clean.

"Do you want to help me in here? I need to bake twelve loaves today, as always…" She said, sounding like she wanted to mutter something under her breath. But she didn't, and Courage swallowed and invited himself inside the shack. He saw sacks of flour everywhere, and a large oven, and some other ingredients spread out over a wooden table.

"Grab something to stand up on, help me out!"

Claire was working with something in her palms, he had to assume it was dough. She was kneading it, and upon closer inspection he saw several balls of dough. She rolled one to him.

"The dough is already made, I finished it last night. But we have to bake them, so start with that one and we can get a few baked at a time." She then grabbed a rolling pin and rolled it over her dough ball. He grabbed one with one paw and held it up, inspecting it closely. He had made bread before, he was familiar with the process alright.

The office of Allen was not as tense as it was before. He sat in his black leather chair and looked around at his austeres t hat keep his community safe. The tension was degrading as they talked things over, sometimes getting off topic to cover a certain detail or discuss what would happen if something went used reason. Arguments were presented with a sense of restraint. They were smart, and they knew their limits and capabilities.

"He will be caught off guard. Allen, we know what we need to do. You know it's time." One of them crossed their arms and looked at Allen. They were having a council about the growing issue with Katz, a powerful bandit with the lust for blood and loot.

"Of Course that fool can't leave me any options. I didn't want this to happen, we didn't want this to happen. We warned him and he refuses to put it to rest. I put a lot of trust in you boys to get the job done right."

The air in the office was stiff and hot, even though a few windows were open. The sun illuminating the many expressions of the men. Some were serious, some were straight but some were smiling. A joke was cracked every once in awhile while everyone was supposed to be quiet. Allen chuckled with them and fed more material to laugh about.

"That loud mouth prick is about to learn real fuckin' quick!" He got up with a heavy set of chuckling, even though something big was about to happen.

"Tonight will be inspirational people, and it certainly won't be out last rebel."

Allen grinned widely as he stepped away from the office. He needed to let his daughter know that he was to depart that evening, and won't return for several days.

Courage finished off his second bread dough ball, and was reaching for the third when that man in the brown leather coat approached him.

"Ah, the dog, how are ya?" he said without looking at him. He was already after claire's attention.

"Claire, we've been discussing our growing issue with Katz and his group. I told you that tensions were running high. I'm taking the austeres for a few nights. We have work to do, you hear? I leave tonight." He left with a groan in his throat and walked quickly away towards the crowd. Claire stopped kneading.

"I know he knows what he's doing, but-" She cut hersetf short. She hated when her dad went on his special, secret missions. Nobody but the members of the council and herself knew about them. It was otherworldly. It was like he was doing some manipulative, behind-the-scenes high-end work that put a lot on the line. She knew the reputation and very existence of each compound was involved. A lot of thought went into the attack, and he was to send for it that night.

"My dad is doing something important, something dangerous. But he has a job to do, for the good of people. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Courage shook his head.

"The community of New Haven are not viewed by all in good light. Some people, some group wanted to steal the place. They wanted our supplies, and Allen refused. Threats were continuously made, and my dad is finally going to answer for them. He has to, for the people. For you and I, you get it?"

Courage returned to kneading his third ball of dough, wanting to ignore Claire then. What's wrong with people? There's monsters everywhere, trying to rip people apart. Children, like John, were wandering the desert and on a constant hunt for survival. A group finds another group, and instead of collaborating, they conflict and threaten. It's in the nature of humanity, to manipulate and hurt. Courage really wanted to get the heck out of there, he needed to find John. He knew the kid was residing in one of the abandoned farms just outside the gate, he had to reach him again. He felt as though the entire compound was borrowed exitance. It was going to explode, it was going to be a free-for-all. People will turn on each other, turn on him. He wasn't safe behind those walls, he was safe by himself, or with that kid.

Clair's father could die, he could become a human happy meal for those things or get struck down by the evilness that became of humanity. The deserts of Kansas were hell, and her father drove it. He was a boss now. He was boss of New haven, and the recipient of other bosses and their drums of force. A lot of people were affected, this wasn't his first rodeo.

She watched as his brown leather coat disappear into the crowd. She was scared for him, she knew he would come back. His team will get him home safe, by any means necessary.

So Courage and the girl kneaded the dough, and she put three of four loaves into the oven at a time. It was easy work, and he knew he could earn his keep by kneading bread all day.

They finished at late noon, way faster than Claire expected. She guessed having the extra pair of hands, or paws, meant more than she thought. She just wanted to give the poor thing something easy to do while he found his place in the compound. She wondered why his previous owner abandoned the dog, he was so sweet. Innocent. She let him go early and said he could go do whatever he wanted. She herself cleaned the shack and closed it up for the day, and went to her dad's office. He spent most of his time either in the there or private den, which was really an old assembly belt area that has been closed off with piles of furniture and other things. There was only one way into his den. She walked in to see Allen hunched over a map on a desk, with a few of his men surrounding it. They were whispering and pointing, and one of them made a joke and they all laughed.

Claire's heavy footsteps caught their attention.

"What is it?" Allen asked from over his shoulder.

"Sir, it's-"

"Oh."

The girl closed the distance between them. Allen spun around and smiled a big, cocky grin. He was still laughing about whatever the joke was about and removed his palms from the map.

"What is it?" he asked, moving toward her. She reached out to hug him. "Come back to us, show that man who should be afraid." She let go. Allen stopped grinning and held her hand firmly.

"I will, don't worry about me. I have the best of the best at my side, and I will lead them into the howling dark and return in pride. I'm proud of this. I refuse to let that animal hang over us anymore. He's finished, tonight is his last." His eyes were wide open and his pupils were enlarged. She let go of him and nodded, seemingly sure he was right. That cat didn't have a clue.

"We leave at late night, long after sunset. We will be taking one of the Jeeps."

Allen waited with a vengeful, almost lusting look on his face. It was getting late, getting closer to the time of departure. He was on the prowl, thirsty for a kill. Sure He was going to kill many people, but only one of them made a difference. Katz. He wanted to single him out, make an example for all the corrupted to see. He had to, this was more than business.

"Get in sir." Came from an approaching vehicle. A jeep, coated in a sleek black and muffled in the exhaust, it came to a rolling stop beside Allen. He was staring in windows of the community's people. They were probably all watching him. They knew, somehow. They shouldn't but they do.

"Alright, let's roll out." he commanded a she clambered unto the passenger seat.

The Jeep sped off into the cover of night.


	15. Chapter 15: A rumble in the night

A distant rumble of what sounded like an engine caught the boy's attention while he walked in circles in a barn. He found quick refuge as he left his friend at the compound. He was debating with himself if maybe he could live in the compound with him. The dog gave him a reason and maybe a part of him wanted the attention of people again. He stepped outside the barn to look for the source of the rumbling, looking in the direction of New Haven until he saw a set of red lights trimming the dark horizon. He watched it curiously. Was that a vehicle? A jeep maybe? He went back inside to get away from the wind, plopping down on a forgotten tractor's seat. He propped his feet up on the steering wheel and lit a cigarette. The smoke slowly rose into the air and he blew at it, watching it swirl around and finally dissipating. He thought to light a fire, so he did. He set it near the barn's door, just enough room for him to sit behind the old wooden panels and hide from the wind. The flames grew quickly as he tossed dried out strands of hay and leaf litter into it. Then came some barnwood for the top of the combusting litter. He watched the smoke curve gently into the night sky as he tapped the end of his cigarette, scattering ashes over the barn's dirt floor. They were alive with that orange, vivid glow of heat. He watched the small patches of heat smolder into nothing. He had to admit that he liked what he saw from the door of New Haven. People. progress, shelter. He could walk over there in the morning and knock on the gate. ' _Hello? Let me in.'_ It would be awkward. Allen knows things. 'Back so soon'? The tall man would answer the door, leaning against it with one shoulder and grinning with that instinctive, knowing face. Why did that man want to help him? Why did any of them want him? They should seal those doors for good, and never set foot onto the sands of what was once Kansas. Now it's hell, and he lived in it and became something else. Maybe the boy looked innocent enough, but he wasn't. Killing was inevitable. Violence and natural selection formed him into what he had become. He was a calm killing machine. An animal, living only on fight or flight. He didn't tell that little innocent Courage that he wasn't as friendly as he led on. The world's end brought out the fantasies that he always hid from what was once society. As a child he often dreamed of killing his own brother for the relentless bullying, teasing and humiliating experiences. A hammer was usually his weapon of choice in his fantasies. He'd bring down that hammer down upon the face that both teased him and made him envious. He hated and loved his brother when he was little, but the hate was always stronger. The thought of cracking the skull of the only person that ever cared about him made him cry, but it was satisfying. The pain and sorrow and complete helplessness was comforting in a fucked-up way. The feeling of not being able to turn around was comforting. The lust for violence and domination wasn't only guided towards his brother. The fantization of dominating over somebody completely, to take control and make them do exactly what he wanted was fitted to his schoolmates. In a way, the apocalypse opened up his fantasies to reality. He could get away with murder, beating and robbing. There was this man, held up in a farm. It had been a year or so since it had happened, it was not long ago. John didn't know the farmhouse was inhabited when he seeked it out for shelter. He entered the house. A shaggy, ruffled man met his eyes as he looked for supplies. He perceived John as one of those monsters. They threatened each other, and John didn't think twice. He pounced the man and strangled him. He kept squeezing until everything beneath him went limp. He liked it. He was strong, powerful and quick on his feet. Then there was that other guy he stabbed to death for trying to hurt him while on the move. He was walking in the dog days of summer, and a cloud of dust caught his eye. It was getting closer, and soon it became apparent that a car was the source of it. It pulled up to him, and the door opened followed by several mean comments and threats. John enjoyed the stabbing of that one, each blow released something evil, but satisfying into his blood. He drooled as he thought about dominating and controlling that cocksucker for trying to harm him. He enjoyed seeing the bastard's eyes widened as the blade pierced through his abdomen, and when he fell to his knees, his eyes lidded. A sigh escaped his chest as one more blow ended him, and he fell to the boys feet. John laughed about it then, and he laughed about it now. That was so not long ago. His brother made him into a hungry monster before the apocalypse even happened. But now everybody is one, except for that stupid dog. Courage. He was the only innocent thing he'd seen after the world ended, and he was the only thing that held onto what the world once was. = **Aftermidnight. A few hours after Allen and his austeres departed from New Haven.** Crickets were everywhere, joining in with the bellowing croaks of frogs and the whispering hiss of the tall grass. The full moon of Kansas illuminated them as they de-boarded the jeep a couple hundred yards before the outer-layer of Katz' compound. Gubs raised, they stepped quietly into the grass and closed in towards a wall. With their backs to it, they glided alongside it, keeping under the shadows. Allen had visited the compound of Katz a few times before tensions were too high to allow it. On one trading run, he remembered seeing a latter on the eastside wall. But they came in from the west, so they had to cross to the other side, and they could already see flashlights all over the area. The latter was crucial to effectively taking out the threat, as it granted them access to the interior. "Alright, this is easy. Follow my lead" Allen whispered over his big shoulder as he stalked in the grass, trailing his hand along the brick wall. The other men followed cautiously with lowered backs, fingers on the trigger. The stepping upon frail sticks and old, dry leaf litter made them nervous, Allen rarely put them on the stealthy jobs. Those were for the smaller, more mortal humans. They were usually the gung ho, loud and almighty heroes with a well-known presence. They kept crouching in the grass until Allen rose a little and pointed with a finger. "There's two, right there." He whispered between cupped palms and then made his way a little closer. He unsheathed his hunting knife. "Atlas, help me with this one." "Gladly." One of the austeres said and joined Allen at his side. He had a foldable knife in his still, calm hand. His eyes were fixed on the man on the right, waiting for the word to kill him. Alen nodded and they crept up to them. The one on the left let out a quit whelp as the knife impaled the back of his skull. The one on the right didn't make a noise, as Atlas managed to cover his mouth as the blade made contact with his cranium. They dragged the bodies into a nearby patch of weeds before carrying on. "Good work. Let's move up, just stay low and follow me. The latter is far from here, so we might not be able to maintain this cloaked wear out forever. Just keep those triggers ready." 


	16. Chapter 16: Welcome home John

Something startled the boy from his sleep. A rustling under the hay caught John's eye as he tilted his head to for the source of the disturbance. The dried hay was wrapped all around himself and he started to push it around. Something was moving. There was a rat scurrying across his leg and he slapped at it, watching it fall to the floor and runaway behind some tools and shelving.

Time to get up.

He yawned and reached for his backpack, exhuming his pack of cigarettes. He lit one of his last.

He tossed the pack and lighter to the side of the makeshift bed and stretched. The thought of insects and arachnids crawling on him breached his mind. Centipedes, spiders and scorpions roamed Kansas, and much of the mid-west. Such an old, robust collection of creatures truly were a fascination that stayed with him. He never cared to kill bugs when he found them in his room late at night. A spider's dash across the carpeting would catch the boy's attention and he'd watch carefully. Spiders always were a fascination for him, and they rarely went unnoticed. The art of their web structure and their tactics for survival were a miracle to him, a constant reminder of natural selection. A prowling centipede uses brute strength to find its food, running it down like a freight train. The mantis, a fierce and powerful insect that uses patience and camouflage to catch prey off guard. An isopod had evolved to survive predators with its hardened shell. His fascination led to deeper study and he wanted to be a zoologist or something. The pressure from teachers and parents finally had an answer. He was a sophomore in High School when the news broadcasted the borders of the state and what was happening.

He secured the barn after extinguishing what was left of his fire from last night. He may come back to the barn, it could serve as a formidable holdout But he couldn't live there all year due to the brutality of winter, so he'd have to live in a cave where the wind won't reach.

It was hot, sticky and cloudless. The humidity, along with a light breeze made smoking his cigarette quite difficult, so he gave up and threw it. He wanted water. He will ask the people of New Haven to send him with some on his way out, if he walks out. He wasn't sure what was going to happen. All he wanted to do was make sure Courage was okay. He owed him at least that.

The tower in the distance had a glare facing him just like last time. He was being watched, so he waved. It disappeared before two glares pointed toward him.

John began his approach to the base of the tower. The wind stopped and the crunching of sand was the only sound as the gates were becoming more visible and clear. He tried to see the source of that almost blinding glare.

He got closer and noticed that there were two figures up in the tower.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"I think you know who goes there. It's Linda, right? I come to visit.

"I know you. I know you're held up in that barn over there, up the road. How is it?"

"How's what?"

"Nevermind. I never did see anybody refuse this place. I've had people begging to be let in, clawing at the gate like vulnerable animals. Some tried to kill me from where you stand and I had to put them down. It's some sad shit, but what are you gonna do?"

"What are you gonna do?"

Then the loud grinding of metal surprised the boy as the gate was opened.

Once inside he looked back up to the tower from the other side and noticed a ladder leading up to the flooring. He was impressed with the construction and size of the compound. There were buildings, big and small, almost making a neighborhood or housing area. How did they get the supplies and materials, anyway? Allen and his people built something big, something open and safe. He wondered if Allen and his people had this place before things were so far gone. The guy must have had some old power if he was able to establish such a robust, obedient force of people. John was disturbed to think that this man survived due to his past-life success. The average man never sees that amount of respect and disciplined followers.

Where was Allen anyway? The hatch to the tower's floor opened and a girl began the climb down the latter. John guessed it to be Linda so he walked closer the base of the ladder. Once she was on the ground he inspected her with detail. She had a rather tan pigment and wore some long black hair. she looked him from head to toe.

"Allen's not here. What do you want now?"

"Where's the dog that arrived a few days ago?"

"I don't know, but I saw him hanging out with Allen's kid a lot. She's posted up near the plaza."

At first he was very cautious about walking around alone, but then he was taken away with surprise. Some watched him as he looked into windows and at what people were working on. He felt like he should say 'hi' or something, but why should he? He lost that a long time ago. He only wanted to see Courage for a while before he left for Fall. Maybe he'd spend a few nights, but that's it. Courage wouldn't want to hear that but it's what he wanted. He didn't want to stay in Kansas he needed to get to the coast. Food was more prevalent and easy to scavenge on the southern coast. That's where he'll head and keep going from there. He justs wasn't sure what that meant for him, to keep going.

Hmmm, she said Allen's kid hangs around the plaza. He assumed these people had some kind of food storage area. He hoped they had some food for himself, surely he could work for a meal?

He looked around for the food area and didn't see it. Eventually he asked a woman about it. She pointed him towards a larger portion of the factory, claiming that the plaza is stored in the innercircle. He thanked her. They have a plaza.

So he continued onward down the streets of New Haven. The place was nothing short of incredible, and he was shocked and surprised to look at what he was looking at. There were thousands of men and women walking about. They were living, not surviving but living.

"Excuse me?" John approached a gentleman wearing a black suit. He was holding a clipboard and a pen, inspecting some crates.

"Is this the plaza?"

"Why yes it is," The man sported a polite voice. "What will you be having today?"

"What?"

You're here to eat, yes?

"How do I earn it?"

"We don't talk like that here."

"H-how do you mean?" John asked with confusion.

"Come on. They've been waiting for you." His smile loosened.

"Who?"

"Everybody. They're all in there. Right this way. But, one thing, you have to leave your weapon with me at the gate. I'm sure you understand."

John started to follow the gentlemen and he unequipped it from his body.

"Oh I understand." The boy reached behind his back and handed the weapon over.

He watched the man carefully as he placed the gun in what appeared to be a shed. As the man turned to return to hi original pose, John asked him if he'd see a dog in the area. He said he had and that the dog seemed to take a liking to Allen's kid.

"She's the community's baker. Come on, I'll show you. This way."

After a series of alleys and backstreets the gentlemen led him to a shack crafted with plywood. He knocked on the side door and waited for it to open.

"The boss' daughter is really sweet. I'm going to head back to my post. Welcome home."

John kinda grimaced when he said that. The door opened just at the man turned the corner. He braced himself.

"Oh, hello," Came a soft voice from behind the door.

"I hear you have a dog here."


End file.
